These Walls Are Caving In
by onlyonepage
Summary: Alice is a hunter following the death of her family, on her travels she meets the Winchester brothers who help her take down a Shapeshifter. SamOC
1. Chapter 1

**Hey, so I thought I'd have a go at some supernatural fanficiton.**

**And nope, I don't own anything, except my own character.**

Chapter 1

I limped back to my beat up red pickup having fallen down a set of stairs in pursuit of a spirit. My ankle was throbbing and I had a nasty gash on my arm from where I fell on lord knows what. On the plus side though, I did set the spirit to rest. His name was Billy Smith and at fifteen years old he had drowned in an outdoor swimming pool. I'd spent two days trying to find out about him but no one seemed to remember him, poor kid. Only his parents could fill me in although for them, it was a traumatic experience. He was bullied, it was the bullies who drowned him, apparently playing a game of dunking each other but they got carried away. I felt sorry for the kid, despite him being a vengeful spirit but that was behind me now. All I had to worry about now was finding something to eat and somewhere to stay for the night before moving onto the next job.

I was a hunter, an interesting career choice. My parents and younger brother died last year, we were on a camping holiday, and a spirit got them. Their throats slit and spinal cords slashed. The only reason I escaped the horror was thanks to my college. I had to go home a day early to hand in a paper. Maybe it's wrong to say this, I should be grateful to be alive but I can't help but wish to be in the ground with them. I shouldn't think like that though, I have a job to do. It may not pay high; in fact it doesn't really pay anything except knowing that I've saved someone's life.

This was of resentful thinking towards being alive always made things so much harder for me. It would be best if I stopped thinking about and started thinking about the plate of lasagne sat in front of me. I missed home cooked meals; my mom could cook the greatest roast dinner, okay bad topic to think about. Instead of letting my mind entertain itself I pulled my laptop out and began searching news headlines for several newspapers hoping a job would stand out. After finishing my not so great lasagne I got a coffee and continued my search.

For a while nothing jumped out until I came across a family who had been found dead at the dinner table, their ears and eyes filled with dried blood. It sounded horrific, families shouldn't die like that; there was no doubt in my mind that it was a spirit. Instead of staying another night in Port Allegany, I got in my beat up red pickup and headed for Sheffield, Alabama.

By nightfall the following evening I was sat in some dingy motel on the outskirts of the town. My room had seen better days but I didn't have the money to splash out on places to stay. Having not slept for near as dammit forty eight hours I immediately collapsed onto my bed to grab a few hours sleep.

The following morning I managed to sneak into the house, it wasn't a crime scene as such, the police had checked it out at first but the coroner had decided their deaths were caused naturally. How come no one found it suspicious that they all died at the same time? I checked the magnetic frequency and sure enough a spirit had been here. It meant one thing, I have research to do.

This was my favourite part of the job, trawling threw the local library trying to find books or newspaper articles or a really old local to talk to about the history of the place. Some of the history was fascinating; I could just spend all day looking at books.

After a quick bite to eat I returned to the library, "excuse me, I'm looking for a book but can't seem to find it any where," I addressed the librarian. It was bugging me; I must have spent at least twenty minutes looking for this one book.

"Yes dear, what's it called?" she answered looking up from her computer. She was an old woman, her glasses on a chain around her neck, you know, the traditional librarian stereotype.

"Errm, Secrets of Sheffield," I replied, yeah real original title, I doubted it would do much good but it was worth a shot.

"Oh I'm sorry dear, I've just given to those young men over there to look at," she gestured to two mean sat over near the newspaper section. As I looked over I met one of the boys eyes, he had an eyebrow raised at me. He paused for a second, I guessed he'd been talking to his friend, his friend elbowed him and then after seeing me grinned, said something to him and the elbowed him again. I frowned at them, stupid book takers, I could go over and ask them to borrow the book for a short while but that mean giving them the satisfaction, even though I had never met them before.

"Do you have the same college report to write?" hmmm, the librarian was still talking and I had tuned out.

"Yeah something like that, thanks for your help," Oh great, college boys, I'd had my fair share of them. Reluctantly I went back to my motel and flicked through the web page for the book and found the author's address. If I couldn't read his book, I'd sure as hell ask him about it.

And that was exactly what I was doing now. Sat in a dusty old living room, all four walls lined with books with an ancient man sat across from me, "I have to say you are the first person to show such an interest in my book, that's outside of my family and friends, I was starting to give up"

I felt sorry for the old man; his name was Arthur Shelborne, his wife died a few years back so he devoted his time to the history of Sheffield to ease the pain of his loss. Arthur, bless him, gave me a copy of his book and we spent over an hour discussing superstitions in the area. 'Secrets of Sheffield had an entire chapter devoted to superstitions; well it certainly made my job a lot easier. I headed back to my motel and sat on the beat up bed, scanning through the superstitions chapter to find what Arthur had told me about earlier.

'_Robert Jones, born 1774, is believed to be behind the mysterious murders of five families over the last two hundred years- _that makes six families now _–he murdered his own family in 1798 through poison which destroyed their brains and causing severe haemorrhaging…' That explained the blood filled ears and eyes, if this has happened before there was no doubt it was a case, whole families shouldn't die, I felt a personal need to solve this case, after all I had experienced a similar loss. _

When I awoke the following morning the book was resting across my chest and my neck was stiff from leaning against the headboard of the bed. I hadn't intended to stay up till four in the morning reading the 'Secrets of Sheffield' book, it had just sort of happened. Feeling grouchy and in need of caffeine hit I went back to the house to check for EMP to get to the bottom of why the spirit of Robert Jones would be targeting families in the town. I parked my car across the street from the house and walked over; I cautiously picked the lock on the back door and stepped inside the kitchen. It was here that it happened; there were still blood stains on the table and on the floor. It made me feel sick, why did he slaughter a whole family, did he do it just for kicks?

The family had a name, they were the Mason's. Two loving doting parents, a son, a daughter and the family dog which currently resides with the next door neighbours. I peared over the fence and could see the dog cowering under their picnic bench, the dog was unwanted there, I could see that. Making a mental note to ask the neighbours about the Mason's later I continue my search through the house. Nothing seemed strange or different. The Mason's seemed as much a normal family as mine had been. Had being the key word.

I found photos from family holidays, birthdays and days out. Everyone's life had been cut short and I was still no nearer to finding out why. There were traces of EMP, a spirit had been here. And I was 99% sure it was that of Robert Jones but why had he chosen this family in this average normal suburban neighbourhood?

I left through the back door again, I locked the door with a key I found and posted it through the letter box, it was only fair right? I went back to my car and grabbed a bite to eat from a bakery, it was only a dry bread roll but it would have to do.

An hour alter I returned to the neighbourhood and parked up again, a black Chevrolet Impala was parked where I had before hand. I climbed out of my truck, the door slamming with a satisfying thud. Glancing at the house movement in one of the upstairs windows caught my eye. Someone else was in there; my theory was the police maybe someone had seen me break in earlier.

Deciding to wait until the visitors had left the house I knocked on the neighbours door the one who now had the dog, well according to the local paper anyway. "Hello, can I help you?" a young woman carrying a baby answered the door.

"Errm yeah, I'm the niece of the woman who lived next door, my name's Alice," yeah okay it's a lie but maybe if she believed that I was related to them she'd be more willing to talk to me.

"Have you come to collect the dog?" she asked impatiently, okay, what? That's definitely not what I came here fore.

"No, I just wanted to know if you knew anymore about what happened." I asked, still stood on the doorstep. I got the feeling that this woman didn't really care.

"Oh, no I don't they just seemed like a perfectly normal family and then one day they all just dropped dead ."

After speaking with the neighbout I headed for the library after making a stop for coffee. Arriving at the library I sat down at the computer with all the old newspaper clippings on it. I have to say 1774 was not an exciting year for news headlines. Robert Jones was the biggest story I could find. Everything else was the opening of public buildings or crop failures.

Back to the Robert Jones story, Jones was 46 years of age, had two children and a dog. Okay so everything matched the Mason's so far. I read on in the news article, _Jones had brutally murdered his family through poison following the bankruptcy of his bank firm. Unable to admit failure it was easier to destroy their lives. After murdering his family Jones then slit his throat with the knife used to carve that evenings beef joint._

"Excuse me Miss?" A soft voice interrupted my reading. It took a moment to register. I was so caught up in reading the old newspapers articles from 1774 that I hadn't noticed anyone else around me. That was until I looked up to the voice and realised it was the two boys from earlier, the college boys. I frowned slightly. "We were just wandering how long you were going to be?" The owner of the voice was the tall guy.

"I'm pretty much finished," I replied shutting my notepad quickly. If they saw what I had written about spirits they would think I was crazy. I stood up and let the boys use the computer; standing behind them I shoved my notebook and pen into my messenger bag.

"Huh, would you look at that, we don't even have to put any effort into our research," I looked up as I heard this; the taller of the pair had turned to face me. Staring open mouthed, I didn't hear the shorter one continue to speak. These two must be hunters also; I had no other explanation for it. Inside I was kicking myself, I should have noticed sooner.

The taller of the two had an eyebrow raised at me; again my mouth was still hanging wide open. I shut it and swallowed. The taller of the two had messy brown hair, pale blue eyes and his features were soft. The shorter one had short hair, the same coloured eyes and a smirk across his face as he muttered to himself about the newspaper article.

"Hey Sammy, you even listening," he nudged the taller one and then saw me.

"You know about Jones?" the taller one asked his voice like velvet.

"Errm yeah," I managed to stutter out, I didn't want to give too much away. This was the second time I had met a hunter, the first time was the night of my family's death.

"What do you know about him?" the shorter one asked, his voice had rough edge.

I shrugged, "he killed his family," I meant to state it in a matter of fact way but it came out slightly bitter. I slung my bag over my shoulder and was planning on walking off and leaving the pair, however, the shorter one stuck his arm out and the taller one pulled up a chair and shoved it between their two chairs.

"Sit," it was more of a demand than a request from the shorter one. Like hell I was going to do that, I was out to do this for myself.

"Please," the taller one said with a slight smile, I felt my self cave in at his voice. Mentally I was kicking myself, where on earth was my strength, I scolded my mind as I sat down. "I'm Sam and that's Dean," he introduced.

"Alice," I replied, yeah it was fair to say I wasn't overly impressed with the situation. "You two are hunters," I stated more than questioned.

"Yeah, could we say the same for you?" both Sam and Dean looked at me expectantly.

"Yeah," I mumbled as I reached into my bag and pulled out my notebook so I could get straight down to business and leave as soon as possible. "Jones murdered his family after his bank went bankrupt, took his family with him and now his spirit is doing exactly the same thing. The Mason's, Mr Mason had his own firm, it was in financial difficulties. The same thing has happened to five other families throughout history."

"Dammit Sam, she's as nerdy as you," Dean said, I frowned, I wasn't a nerd, I just had a small liking for facts and books. Facts don't betray you; they are straight to the point, true. A person could rely on facts.

"So that's all I know, it seems pretty straight forward, I've just got to salt and burn the bones," I shoved the note book in my bag.

"Do you happen to know where he's buried?" Sam asked. I looked up from fumbling with the broken zip on my bag and met Sam's eyes. The result, I was brain-dead. "Errm, err, n-no," I managed to stutter out, okay this was stupid, surely it hadn't been that long since I had a decent conversation, social skills don't just vanish. Taking a deep breath I continued my answer, "no, not yet, I would carry on looking but I have to see to my dog."

"Oh well, how about we find out and you could meet us later?" Dean asked. I heard Sam scoff from behind me.

"Yeah sure," I replied, hah, that was a lie, I didn't need their help, I could do this all on my own, I had to do it all on my own.

"Awesome, there's a bar over the road, we'll meet there at 8 o'clock," Dean clapped his hands together.

"Okay, I'll see you later," I stood up and with one last smile from Sam I left the library. I had no intention of meeting them later; I would just come back later and find out where Jones was buried. As I walked into the sunny parking lot I kept trying to convince myself that what I'm doing, hunting, is good for me, it the right thing for me. Sadly, I knew it was a losing battle yet I was still going to go through with it all.


	2. Chapter 2

**Hey, s****orry for the wait I've just been really busy, I went abroad to so some field work for my degree. I don't really like this chapter but I felt the need to write something.**

Chapter 2

I wasn't in the mood to eat anything after being alone with my head for the past three hours so I went back to the Library, there was an hour till closing which was enough time to find out where Jones had been buried. Glancing at the clock, which read six o'clock, I headed into the library.

It took almost the whole hour to find where Jones was buried, as I pulled out of the library parking lot, I realised I had to act fast to salt and burn the bones, otherwise Sam and Dean would no doubt come to do exactly the same thing when they realised I'd had no intention of meeting them at that bar.

This was one of the worst parts of the job, having to dig up the grave, it was hard work and tiring both physically and emotionally. This was someone's body, where on earth was the respect? Lord knows how long I had been digging, it was two or maybe it was three feet down when the rain began. Great, my shoes were now ruined; thank god they were my hiking boots so they'd easily clean up. I climbed out of the hole and rummaged in my back pack for my rain coat, I shrugged it on and put the hood up, although it didn't do a very good job of keeping my hair dry, the rain was just too heavy. Nevertheless, I ploughed on shovelling mud after mud out of the hole despite the rain slowing me down.

I sighed for what must be the umpteenth time, my hands were like ice and my whole body was shivering. Again I jammed my spade into the mud and heaved it out into the small pile I'd created. "Need a hand?" I jumped out of my skin as I heard those that voice. Dean. I looked up and met the eyes of Sam and Dean, well this was awkward.

Dean jumped down into the hole immediately digging at twice the speed I was, Sam held his hand out for me, I was reluctant to take his hand. Why should I just let these two come in and take over, I should be doing this by myself. I turned away and carried on digging, maybe they would get the message. Unfortunately that was not the case. I was cold, weak and shivering despite my stubbornness. Dean groaned and slammed his spade into the dirt and turned to me, "give me that!" He snatched the spade from my hands, which took me by surprise; I just stood there open mouthed.

"G-g-g-give i-i-it b-b-back-k-k," I demanded through chattering teeth.

"Sorry but no can do," Dean replied.

"Bastard," I muttered, Sam laughed from above.

"Alice?" Sam had his hand out again, his voice soft. Reluctantly I took his hand and let him pull me out of the mud pit. I muttered a thanks. Sam leapt into the hole and joined Dean in digging; I on the other hand folded my arms across my chest in attempt to keep warm. Perhaps November wasn't the greatest month for this sort of thing.

It took the pair of them no time at all to reach the coffin and with a stab of the spade they managed to break the wooden lid. They both climbed out, as muddy and wet as I was. Dean squirted on lighter fluid whilst Sam shook a tin of salt into the coffin and then handed me a packet of matches. I just stared at him.

"Well go on then, let's get rid of this son of a bitch already," Dean prompted.

My hands still shaking I fumbled with the first match but it snapped, the second well, I couldn't keep my hand still long enough for it to light before the rain soaked it, I cursed under my breath and tried again still I had no luck. I felt my eyes begin to prickle. Oh great, now I was crying over a stupid match that I didn't even have the strength to light. I couldn't even light a match for the sake of saving other families from death.

"Here, let me," Sam reached out to the matches but I shook my head, they weren't going to take this from me. A lone tear fell down my cheek hidden amongst the rain which splattered my face.

I took a deep breath and attempted to steady my shivering and finally the match lit, I threw into the hole and watched the flames ignite. The heat was a welcoming relief.

As the flames died out the unwelcome cold returned making every bone in my body ache from shivering. It took Sam and Dean no time at all to fill in the hole and wordlessly I picked up my bag and spade and left for my truck.

"Alice!" I could hear Sam calling after me but it was no use, I wasn't going to stop for him. I needed to get as far away from this town as possible and get my head in order. I flung my rucksack into the back of the truck and fastened a plastic sheet over the top to keep the rain out, I then reached for my door but a hand stopped me from opening it. Sam's hand to be precise. "You can't drive in that state," his voice was sympathetic in my ear.

"I can," my voice came out quiet and shaky.

I heard him sigh, turning to face him I realised how close he actually was. "Let me drive you back to your motel at least so I know that you're safe," I bit my lip as his eyes stared intently into mine. I knew that Sam was right, I wouldn't be able to drive safely like this, and I guess I just wasn't used to someone caring.

"Okay," I finally mumbled in reply and I walked around the car and slipped into the passenger seat. As soon as the door was shut I pulled of my raincoat and flung it on the back seat and then reached for the dial for the heater on the truck. With hands like ice I wiped away the rain and tears from my face and realised how red and puffy my eyes were. Great.

I risked a glance to the side to watch Sam driving, his hair was stuck to face which I might add was covered in dirt, all in all he still looked gorgeous. Sam turned his head slightly and his eyes wandered to mine, I had to turn my head sharply so he wouldn't know I was watching him, despite forcing myself to gaze unwillingly at the road I still saw a slight smile creep onto his face. The result of this, my cheeks burned red, wow I was such a child. This happened several times, we'd both catch each other looking at the other. It was stupid. Eventually I gave up and fixed my eyes on the scenery blurring passed the window.

I looked to the other window as I heard the indicator flick on, "this isn't my motel," I pointed out.

"I know but you looked like you could do with a cup of coffee," Sam switched the engine off in the car park of a diner.

"Yeah nothing like a cup of good old truck stop coffee," I replied dryly making Sam laugh.

So now I found myself sat on an uncomfortable cream upholstered seat in a dingy truck stop, sat opposite Sam with nothing but a greasy grey table between us. "You didn't come and meet us," Sam broke the awful silence that had fallen upon us since we left my truck.

"I know," I replied, clearly not wanting to talk but that didn't seem to stop Sam.

"Why not?" he pressed. I knew I would have to answer but for some reason it didn't stop me from stalling.

I picked up my coffee and swilled it in my cup and sipped a mouthful and another one and one more after that. Finally, I realised it was no use so I was just going to tell Sam the truth. And here it goes, "I didn't want your help, I didn't want to admit I needed it, this whole thing has been sort of personal. Those families that died, I couldn't allow it to happen again. I've seen one too many families suffer." So there it is and I said way more than what I intended. A simple, 'I don't need anyone's help' would have been enough. Because I let my mouth run away with me I was now open to a whole range of questions that I didn't want to answer, they were too painful.

"You're family?" yep, to be about right, Sam had an inquisitive mind, just my luck.

"My family," I answered. Lets be honest, I wasn't going to willingly offer anymore.

"What happened to them?" Sam's voice was quiet as his blue eyes locked onto mine. How could I be so cold to him, he had just helped me out. This cup of coffee had done wanders to warm me up, well for the most part. The damp clothes weren't helping but at lest my teeth had stopped chattering and my hands had warmed up considerably.

I was silent for a while as I stared into the brown liquid in my chipped mug. Try as I might I would never forget that night but I wasn't sure I was ready to talk about it to anyone, I still had the notion that my problems were my problems and no one else's. Finally I went with yet another short response, which I felt was unfair to Sam after all it was only human nature to ask questions, "they died." Yep definitely a conversation killer there.

"I'm sorry," I looked up at Sam to see what his response was but it seems that it was now his turn to stare at the coffee. Who could have thought coffee would be so interesting. I let my eyes wander to my coffee also, and chewed my lip as I relived the events of that night in my mind. "What happened?" Sam asked, looking up from his mug.

"I don't want to talk about it, maybe some other time," I replied, I knew full well that there would never be another time. After tonight I would never see him again so why did it matter to him.

Sam smiled slightly, "some other time then."

"Some other time," I muttered. We drunk up silently and in no time, I had said good bye to Sam and was sat in my motel room, still relatively damp. It seemed strange that I had spent time with someone tonight; it was actually a nice feeling. My lifestyle meant I didn't have friends anymore, so some social contact was nice. Sam had insisted that I have his number so that if I had any trouble on the road I could call him and he and Dean would be able to help. Naturally, I insisted that I wouldn't need any help but I still thanked him anyway.

After a hot shower and a decent nights sleep I was ready for the road again, glad to be rid of that stupid town. I'd never see Sam or his brother again and that was fine. It was part of my life, being alone. Hopefully my next job would be much easier, less social hassle.

Sometimes I hated being alone, I hated this life, in fact scrap that, lets go with despise or maybe even detest. My college degree no longer mattered. All that matters is that I survive from one day to the next. Deep down I know that my parents would have wished for me to continue my life and be happy and safe. But I couldn't do that, I couldn't just forget everything and move on, instead I let it take over my life.

By dawn the following morning I had pulled out of the motel car park leaving Sheffield behind. Where was I going? I had no idea, well at least not at the moment.


	3. Chapter 3

**Okay, so I haven't updated in ages, I was busy with Uni but now I'm finished and can write as much as I like =] I have part of the enxt chapter written as well, I promise it won't take ages for me to update again.**

**Last time I checked I didn't own Supernatural...**

Chapter 3

Four months had passed since my run in with Sam and Dean. I hadn't spoken to them, as I predicted, I didn't need anyone. In the last four months I had hunted countless spirits, a pair of Vampires in Tennessee, and three demons. Good times.

For the past week I had been driving through states, trying to pick up a case, eventually I ended up in Manchester, New Hampshire. First things first I had to find some food after I checked into a dingy hotel in the centre of the city. Food ended up being a coffee and a muffin…very nutritional. As I sipped my hot latte I read the newspapers from the past few days, an unnatural number of murders had occurred on the east side of the city not far from my hotel. All of them were people of high standing in society: a church reverend, a doctor, lawyer and a head teacher within a week. The newspapers were reporting that the victims had been reported missing and within 24 hours an anonymous tip off would alert the authorities the where location of their bodies. What was strange was that the bodies showed signs of having been dead longer than the twenty four hours that they had been missing.

Well I was stumped, this could be anything and I hadn't been in the game long enough to know everything about what's out there. The only thing I could do was hit the internet and ask around. It had struck my mind that it was perhaps a normal death and something had caused the process of decomposition to speed up but I couldn't say what. I was studying to be a forensic anthropologist at college but I didn't know enough to comment on the process of decomposition speeding up without text books and seeing the body. A few words in a newspaper meant nothing. Despite knowing that the process of decomposition can be sped up for some reason, call it an intuition; I don't think that was the case. Experiencing what I have over the past year and a half I could easily doubt it and say that something supernatural was causing this.

I posed as a reporter and went to the police station hoping to a gain a clearer insight but it turned out to be a waste of time, they wouldn't tell me anything that hadn't already been reported in other papers. The detective I spoke with seemed immune to my shameless flirting, something I really didn't want to do in the first place but I thought it might give me some extra information. I even wore a short skirt and low cut top but it was a wasted effort, although some of the other officers didn't think so judging by the looks on their faces.

After I was done making a spectacle of myself I returned to the hotel and trawled through all the information I had. The bodies weren't brutally mutated just gun shot wounds to the chest. Maybe I had missed something but I couldn't find anything. I loved piecing together information but this; this was just a mass of meaningless words. Frustrated, I shoved all the paper into a file and took out my iPod and decided to turn in for the night.

After a few hours of sleep, I awoke as dawn began to break. I had decided I was going to be optimistic and would find out why these people had died or more like what was killing them. Leaving the hotel I went for a bagel and coffee and returned with today's newspapers but there was nothing new reported. I decided I would visit the homes of the victims. Maybe I could find some clues. I went to the priest's house first; he had been a family man complete with three kids and a loving doting wife. I went to offer my condolences to the family, as a church going member of the parish. Personally I had no belief in god, if he was real then why did he let my family die. Scientifically he shouldn't exist anyway. For me to believe there would have to be proof. Despite what I've seen spirits and demons and the like I just couldn't accept that god was real. Today, however, I was going to, for the sake of making the character I was about to play, appear in some way real: Sandy, a church going twenty something, a receptionist at the local hospital.

I left the priest's or rather Father Wilson's house with no new information. I couldn't ask too many odd questions, it wasn't fair on the family, it was unfair to put so much pressure on them when they were distraught enough as things are believe me, I should know.

Next I went to the Doctors place, a Dr. Abbot a man in his late sixties, it had been just him and his wife. With the wife dead the house was empty. On the lounge floor there was a large amount of dried blood, obviously where the murder had occurred. For the next half an hour I explored every nook and cranny of the house before arriving at the master bedroom. The bedroom was clear and I was feeling very pessimistic, I had found nothing, maybe it was just cold blooded murder. How wrong I was, I opened the door to the en-suit and looked around at first I didn't see anything but out of the corner of my eye on the edge of the sink was what I can only describe as blob of goo. I grabbed a pencil from my bag and prodded the goo, disgusting, what was more disturbing was that it was skin coloured. "What on earth," I muttered to myself. For a few more minutes, I remained crouched on the floor staring at the gloopy mess, still baffled I scooped some up with a pencil and put in a plastic bag. It was thoroughly disgusting.

Later that day I went to the Lawyers ultra modern apartment, the guy had way too much money, anyone could see that. Gadgets everywhere, none of them looked used at least not regularly. But that wasn't what I was looking for, I was curious. I wanted to find more of the goo. That was exactly what happened, only this time on the edge of a kitchen cabinet. I didn't have anything to scoop it up with so I took a spoon from a kitchen draw, no one would miss it anyway.

The remainder of the day passed, I managed to get some Mexican chicken for dinner before heading back to the dingy hotel. Once back in the room, away from any prying eyes, I took the bits of goo, still attached to the pencil and spoon and just looked at it. I'd never seen anything like that before. Thankfully the dingy motel wasn't so crappy in that it had Wi-Fi internet. For several hours I trawled through various sites, but nothing seemed to match. By the early hours of the morning I was at a lose end, I had no idea what to do, maybe there was nothing here after all but finding the goo at both homes kind of contradicted that. I was getting tired and fed up, but I wasn't going to give up. I needed to contact someone who knows about this sort thing, the supernatural if you will, the only people I could think of were Sam and Dean. To be honest I didn't really want to speak to them, I had nothing against them but for them to help me again wasn't really what I wanted, once I know what is causing the deaths I can sort it out for myself, maybe if I just ask them what they think it is. Reluctantly, and despite it being nearly two in the morning I picked up my phone and sent Sam a text: _Sorry if I wake you, its Alice, could you ring me in the morning, thanks_ I put my phone down on the table and decided on further research, nothing like asking for help to make a person feel like an amateur.

No sooner had I opened another web page when my phone started ring, I glanced at the caller id, it was Sam. "Hello?" I said into the receiver.

"Hi Alice, its Sam, I got your message, are you okay?" Sam's asked sounded worried.

"Yeah, I'm fine I just had a question about something I'm looking into, I didn't wake you did I," I replied feeling guilty.

"No, Dean is asleep, so what's the question?"

I hesitated for a second but the decided I would shove my pride aside, for some reason it seemed an easy thing to do after hearing Sam's voice. "I'm in Manchester, New Hampshire and something weird, something supernatural is going on or at least that's what I think. People have been going missing and twenty four hours later they turn up dead, but there body shows signs of being dead for longer than twenty four hours. It's always someone high in society, there was a priest, errrm a doctor, lawyer and oh a headmaster."

"Errrm," was Sam's response, which didn't really help.

"The police found their bodies after a unanimous tip off, I'm so confused, I can't find anything online," I then ran out of things to say waiting for Sam to come up with something.

"Alice, do you want Dean and I to come and help? We finished a hunt two days ago and haven't come up with anything new yet," Sam asked. As soon as he said that, I knew I wasn't mad on the idea but I needed help and people were dying so I couldn't exactly say no.

"If you don't mind," I replied. I then sad good bye to Sam and decided that as much my insomniatic habits occasionally paid off when I was doing research or back in college when I'd left a paper to the last minute, but when hunting something unknown I think some form of sleep would do me good. Otherwise I'd be relying on my good friend coffee.

After a few hours of restless sleep I was once again awake and staring at my laptop screen with coffee in hand waiting for the arrival of the Winchesters. I tidied up the motel room, not sure where I would be meeting them, which managed to kill a bit of time. Eventually mid morning rolled by and I had turned my attention back to some legends. The kind of thing that seeing what I have, I wouldn't be surprised if they were true. The only problem was none of the local legends seem to fit with the goo I found, the only thing they achieved was making my spine tingle as I read them. A high pitched ring, made me jump from my skin until I realised that it was my phone. Feeling particularly stupid, I fumbled for the answer button, without checking the caller ID, "Hello?"

"Alice, hi. It's Sam," oh, so they had made it into town.

"Hey, you made it?" I closed the web pages and went to rinse the cup out in the sink. Needing two hands I wedged my phone between my shoulder and ear and turned the tap on.

"Yeah, where are you at the moment?" Sam asked.

"My motel room but I can meet you guys in the diner down the road," I said reaching over to put the cup on the draining board, "oh crap!" I had reached over too far and the phone slipped from my ear landing on the edge of the sink and bouncing onto the floor, just my luck. Quickly I shut off the tap and bent down to retrieve the phone. "Hello?" I asked hoping the phone was still working and that Sam was still on the other end of the line.

"Alice! What happened are you alright?" Sam asked worriedly.

"Haha yeah, dropped my phone," I explained feeling pretty stupid.

Sam laughed, "So have you got an address?" I gave Sam the street name of the motel and dinner and before hanging up I distinctly heard Dean mumble something in the background along the lines of 'I don't see why it can't be a bar instead of a diner."


	4. Chapter 4

**Anyways, here's another chapter (wow talk about stating the obvious). I've been working on another story with all my free time, I blame the lack of uni. I had a brainwave as I was driving today, it got rid of my whole lack-of-ideas situation at least.**

**Oh, and 'I don't own Supernatural'**

**Chapter 4**

I walked into the diner about fifteen minutes later, swapping my sunglasses for my normal glasses, and cast a glance around the dinner. Just like every other diner to me, greasy food and bad coffee. Despite that though, I spent a lot of time in them, trying to find some form of bearable nutrition, "Alice!" Sam's voice broke through my diner rantings. I smiled and joined them in a booth towards the back of the diner, certainly fitting for any shady business dealings not that I was planning on doing any of them.

"So? What have you got?" Dean said before I was able to sit down, talk about straight to the point.

"Hello Sam, Dean," I greeted, ignoring what Dean said for the time being. A waitress walked over, wearing a red check shirt, short denim skirt and incredibly high heals, how on earth she could walk them I would never know. Dean certainly took a fancy to her, maybe it was the platinum blonde hair and bright red lipstick, who knows, it was rather amusing to watch him flirt. The waitress didn't mind she fell for it easily.

We ordered coffees and she walked away, Dean watching her ass the entire time. I exchanged a look with Sam and laughed, the sound of my own voices laughing was an unusual sound for my ears. Clearly I hadn't done enough of it lately. "What? Call it sport okay" Dean tried to defend himself.

"Sport?" Sam wasn't convinced.

"Yeah, now can we get on with it, what's in this town?" Dean asked impatiently.

"I don't know," I replied. I opened up my bag and pulled out the plastic bag with the goo. "I found this though."

"Ahhhh great," Dean said taking one look at what I'd put down on the table.

"Y-y-you know what's in this town just by looking at, at that?" I was more than surprised. I had spent ages wracking my brain and trawling through information and hadn't come up with anything and these two had identified it in a matter of seconds.

"Yeah," Sam leant forward in his seat, resting his arms on the table, "a Shapeshifter."

"Shapeshifter?" I tested the words.

"Yeah, Dean's favourite," Sam chuckled lightly.

"Sons of bitches, thanks to them I'm a wanted man," okay so Dean isn't bitter about them at all, didn't help matters though. From their name I had a rough idea of what they are, they shift shape, obviously into something but other than that I know nothing else about them.

"Right," I said, turning my attention to Sam, somehow I felt I would get more useful information from him. "Wait, them?"

"We've come across two before, one of them took on Dean's form," Sam clarified.

"Great, so there's more than one?" I asked, not liking the sounds of things.

"No, its not likely, we've hunted them on two different occasions," Sam answered. At least there just being one Shapeshifter in Manchester sounded simple enough.

I'd never heard of Shapeshifters before, so I was certainly absorbing everything the boys were telling me. So far I'd learnt that they liked the underground and usually ended up taking to a life of crime, which certainly fit this case. Dean seemed to have a strong hated for them, I guess when one impersonates you then there's every reason to hate them. According to Sam Shapeshifters not only take on the form of whomever they are impersonating but also there memories. In that case I would need to be careful; my memories were my own thank you very much.

"So, how do we kill a Shapeshifter?" I asked. I had a sinking feeling that a bullet to the head would be of no use.

"Silver, like a Werewolf," I just had to ask. Only problem was I had to find something silver that was sufficient enough to stab someone resembling a human being. By the sounds of it I was for a fun few days.

"Great, just great," I mumbled to myself, "now I just need to find some silver and we're well way."

Sam exchanged a quick glance with Dean, "how can you be a hunter and not have any silver?" Dean asked.

"I do have silver," I looked down at the cross around my neck, "just not of a useful size."

"Come on," Sam stood up, holding his hand to pull me to my feet. I followed Sam towards the door.

"Hey! What about me!" Dean shouted.

Sam turned around, "I don't know, take care of the bill." I laughed and made for the door quickly, the look on Dean's face was priceless.

"Smooth," I said to Sam as we walked out to the street.

"Yeah, well he left me with his bar tab back in San Diego," Sam laughed.

"Brotherly love I see," right at that moment I wanted nothing more than to see my brother. Why did I have to open my mouth? I shook my head to clear the thoughts; right now I had a Shapeshifter to worry about. "So, where are we going?" I asked, curiosity winning over.

"To the Impala, there should be some silver," Sam explained. We arrived at the brother's car, the Impala Sam called it, "but now we have to wait for dinner, he has the keys." Sam leaned against the hood of the car; I stood not far from him, my arms crossed. Slightly hostile I know, but after thinking of my brother (and there it is again, creeping back into my head) I wanted retreat into my inner self hating world. It was a happy place and I mean that in the most negative of ways, but you obviously already guessed that.

"Need something?" Dean said as he walked the last few steps towards the Impala, I honestly didn't care for cars, Dean apparently thought otherwise with his keys hooked around his index finger.

"Yeah, apparently," Sam muttered, heading around the boot of their car. I followed, not sure what to do with myself. Did they just have a trunk of silver or something? As Dean popped the trunk and then went to lift the bottom up I gasped, not only did he prop it open with a shotgun but the boot was entirely filled with weapons. Sure, I had a gun, was kind of necessary for the job but this, well this was an entire arsenal. It was cool.

"Cool huh?" Dean grinned, picking up a silver knife. My words exactly.

"Just a bit, so, how do we go about finding this Shapeshifter?" for some reason I was actually kind of looking forward to it. It was certainly something I hadn't seen before; it's got to be interesting, right? I may live to regret saying that though.

"Well if you have a video you can usually tell by the eyes, you said he goes after high standing people in society right?" Sam clarified.

"Great, well that could be any number of people," Dean grabbed two more silver knives and handed one to each of us.

"I looked at the lawyers and the doctors homes but didn't find anything. I didn't have the heart to ask too many questions at the priests," I explained, hoping that was enough, perhaps I should have been more persistent with questions. "The family were there," I added hoping that they would understand why. By the look on Sam's face, I would guess that he did, Dean well he just looked sceptical.

"What about the principles?" Sam asked.

"Not yet," I had intended for it to be my port of call today, although obviously I couldn't go waltzing into a school claiming I was looking for a Shapeshifter, that kind of thing would get a person locked away.

"So we go there," Dean stated.

"No offense but I don't think they'll take too kindly to someone waltzing in with a knife looking for a Shapeshifter," I said as I hid the knife in my bag, "that's just screaming out 'arrest me' and I don't know about you guys but I don't fancy a night in prison."

"It's not so bad," Dean said, looking at Sam and laughing. I think I was missing something, an inside joke maybe, but it didn't matter, right now I was thinking Shapeshifter and Shapeshifter only and well maybe that I shouldn't have had that last cup of coffee.

Sam seemed intent on ignoring his brother, he obviously didn't share the reasons for Dean's laughter, "shall we go and check out the Principle's office, that's where his dead body turned up right?" he looked away from Dean. Sam addressed me. I nodded and we left Dean still at the boy's car. Dean muttered something about talking with the cops or some locals; I couldn't quite catch what he said.

"Sam," I said as we walked to my truck, "how do we get into the school, we can't just walk in there. You know security and all that jazz."

"How are your acting skills?" He asked, completely ignoring my question.

They weren't brilliant that's for sure, "okay I guess," well I wasn't going to lie.

"Good enough for me," he replied.

"How are yours?" I asked genuinely curious making Sam laugh as I wrestled with my stiff gears in the truck.

Within the hour I found myself sat next to Sam in the Principles office with the Vice Principle, pretending to be his fiancé who were looking at schools for my non existent younger brother to attend. The story went that our parents had died (which really they had but no one else knew that) leaving me the primary carer for my brother, who would be moving to Manchester to live with Sam and I. From experience I was perfectly capable of expressing the grief at my parent's deaths, if only my brother was alive.

"Death is a terrible thing," the Vice Principle stated, "I suppose you've heard about the death of our Principle recently, terrible business." I exchanged a glance with Sam, looks like finding answers wouldn't be like pulling teeth.

"How did it happen?" Sam asked, leaning forward in his seat slightly, obviously keen to get an answer.

"A shot to the back of the head, well, according to the cops at least. If you ask me though, it's all a bit strange," the Vice Principle sat back; obviously he felt he'd said enough.

"What do you mean?" I faked interest; I already knew what he was going to say.

"Well, the bodies had been dead for a while, but they were reported missing twenty four hours before they were found. I think it's someone with a grudge," the Vice Principle was obviously one for gossip.

"I hope they catch the killer soon," Sam nudged my foot as he spoke. With his hand at his side he gestured to a potted plant in the corner. I had to blink several times to make it out, but sure enough, there it was, plain as day. Some Shapeshifter goo on a leaf. So our friend had certainly been hear, unfortunately it gave us no indication on a Shapeshifter lair.

I was glad to be out of the school what felt like a century later. Being Sam's fiancé, talk about weird, I hardly knew the guy. Silence had fallen on the car as we drove towards the bar we'd agreed to meet Dean at. "Would we be able to find out if there were any tunnels or sewers directly connecting the murders, you did say that Shapeshifters like to live underground, right?" I broke the silence, a map would really help.

"Yeah, just need a way to get that information," Sam trailed off, I'm guessing he was trying to find a way how.

I grinned, a childish grin, "easy peasy," easy peasy? I definitely won't be saying that again. Sam laughed, "Don't laugh," I muttered then confidently began to explain, "The local library has that kind of information, just have to know who to ask." I tapped the side of my nose. "The library keeps that kind of information in its archives for planning purposes, I just had to pose to be a student who needed the information for a project, see? Easy." That seemed to have vanished the silence in the truck.

Clambering out of the truck we headed for the bar (Sam holding the door open for me). Despite it being mid afternoon it was moderately busy, that surprised me. It wasn't even anywhere special; it had the usual drunks at the pool table, sticky floor, and plastic leather stools around chipped tables. Sam ordered two beers, I preferred wine but it felt right to be drinking beer in a place like this.

"So that told us nothing we didn't already know," Sam passed me a beer, from which I took a long swig.

"I blame the acting skills," I teased making Sam laugh, "Odd though wasn't it?" The light comic relief soon disappeared as I said this.

"The getting married, thinking about kid's thing?" Sam guessed, at least he was on the same brain wave as me.

"Yeah, doesn't really go with the job. If my parents hadn't of died I wouldn't even be doing this," I could hear the bitterness creep into my voice, "I'd be a qualified geologist, couple of kids, nice house, white picket fence. My parents would definitely be alive, that's for sure.

"What happened to them?" Sam asked so some other time had arrived.

"A spirit, we were camping or rather. I left a day early, I had a paper due, and they were found by the site warden. Throats slit, the cops said it was cold blooded murder," I replied, now keen on what the label of beer said.

"And that's what made you start hunting?"

"Pretty much. A reporter asked me what I though of other similar murders that had happened ever twelve years, to the exact day. At first I thought it coincidence but I read news reports from the other murders and it was odd," I laughed nervously, "I have to have a scientific reason for everything or at least to know how or why something happens. I became obsessed with the murders. Eventually, and at this point I was getting pretty desperate, I found a book in the library, at the time it was weird but it soon proved to be right. I did more research online and there were lots of sights saying how to get rid of a spirit, most of them said salt and burn the bones. Turns out the site owner was killed by his brother over money troubles back in the sixties and was out for revenge."

It felt like I had been talking for ages, practically my life story, it felt good to talk about it though. I hadn't managed that since my family's death. "So what's your story?" I asked, shifting the attention from myself. A sombre look graced Sam's face, by the time he had explained I almost wished I hadn't asked. I was surprised that he'd been hunting since he was a kid, what a way to grow up. We sat in silence for ages, both wallowing in our own memories. Frankly, it was getting on my nerves. Setting my empty beer down with determination I caught Sam's attention, "we need a happier topic."

"Alright then," Sam began before downing the rest of his beer, "Favourite film?"

"Couldn't it had been a book, that's easier to choose," I wracked my brain for a film, I honestly didn't watch that many.

"Okay, favourite book," Sam picked at the label on his beer.

"I'm a sucker for Jane Austen, Pride and Prejudice was the first I read, its got to be that one," I had to cut my book ramble off, I had so much to say about Jane Austen's work.

I was about to ask Sam what his favourite drink was when Dean sat down next to me, I hadn't seen him enter the bar. He even had a drink, "Ladies," he greeted, causing Sam to roll his eyes. "Find anything?"

We'd found nothing new, turns out neither had Dean but we did have an idea for finding the Shapeshifters lair.


	5. Chapter 5

**Hey, so another chapter. I started of not liking this chapter very much, can't really make my mind up whether I like it now that I've finished, oh well. **

**Aaand, I don't own supernatural =]**

**Chapter 4**

I left Sam and Dean in the bar, I would meet them for dinner later on, for the time being I was heading to the library. I had a feeling it was going to take a while; the elderly librarian behind the desk kind of gave off that impression. I straightened myself up and approached the desk, "excuse me, I wonder if you can help, I'm studying flood risk in the area. I just wandered if I could have a look at the underground plans of the city, I want to look into drainage," it was quite a long explanation but I had to sound like an eager college student. I put on my biggest smile; I hope it wasn't too fake.

"Oh that does sound interesting," the elderly librarian got to her feet, I felt guilty for making her move but it was going to lead, hopefully, to the demise of the Shapeshifter. I followed the hobbling old woman to a room off of the main library, like an ante-chamber filled with dozens of ancient filing cabinets and boxes of paper. It could take forever to find the information I needed.

Nearly a quarter of an hour later and I still didn't have the plans I so desperately desired. The librarian had long since left me, which I was grateful for. I checked my watch, I was supposed to be meeting Sam and Dean in half an hour, I might have to take a rain check on that. Dropping a file, that was looking very promising, onto the table I found myself in a cloud of dust. Letting the dust settle I phoned Sam, who by the sounds of it was still in the bar with Dean, I hoped they were at least talking about the case. I explained I'd be late and thankfully, Dean suggested take out pizza later on, once I'd found the plans. Apparently I 'need their expertise'; at that point I hung up on the boys.

Three more very heavy dusty files later and I struck gold. It was slightly faded and dated twenty years ago but at least it was plans for the cities underground network. After several attempts at forcing the prehistoric photocopier to work, I finally had a barely readable version of the plans. Folding them neatly I shoved them into my bag and drove back to the motel where I'd agreed to meet Sam and Dean. I knocked on their door and Sam let me in. Dean was crashed out on the bed, snoring loudly. "Wake him up, he can help us," I said none too loudly, my normally dormant bossy streak wining through.

"Oi, Dean, wake up," Sam shook Dean rather harshly.

Sam handed me a beer and took one for himself, "where's mine?" Dean asked.

"These are the last two, you can go out for pizza and bring back more," Sam stated, Dean eyed him suspiciously and was about to argue when Sam beat him to it, "we did all the work this afternoon, it's your turn."

"Actually Dean," I handed him some money from my purse, "get me a bottle of wine, there's only so much beer I can drink." I realised it was cheeky but did it matter? Dean was going to the liquor store anyway and I'd spent the rest of my afternoon trawling through stacks of paper whilst the two Winchester's sat in the bar. I damn well needed a glass of wine. Sam was smiling as Dean muttered obscenities to himself as he picked up his keys and left.

"Nice," Sam commented.

"He'll get over it," I took a sip from my beer and then unfolded the photocopied plans. "This is where I'm lost; finding the plan was easy, well mostly but now what?" I asked Sam, jumping straight into matters.

"Good question," he took a long swig from his beer and sat down on the battered couch next to me. "Why don't we mark on the sites of all the deaths so far, it might show something?"

I reached into my bag and grabbed a few highlighters, two of them were empty but I wasn't sure which. Instead of throwing them away I just put them back in my bag last time I used them.

So far there were four victims, all of them clustered in a suburban area to the south, "there's nothing underground there," there wasn't anything there, but we knew that to be otherwise. I puzzled over this for a moment; Sam had yet to say anything.

"It's new," Sam picked up his beer again.

I didn't think too much on this, "it's not, look at the date on the plans, that's twenty years ago."

I was answered with laughter, it was a nice sound, the room had taken on a serious note since Dean had left half an hour ago that the light relief was welcome. "I meant the buildings in the area, they are all fairly new."

Oh boy did I feel stupid, I hadn't thought of that. I picked up my drink to hide my embarrassment and pretended I knew what Sam meant all along. "So these plans are useless?" I had to say it aloud, even if we both knew the answer.

"Yeah," Sam replied.

"I think I need something stronger to drink," I replied burying my head in my hands. It couldn't be easy just for once now could it? Don't answer that.

"Don't worry about it," Sam let his hand rest on my knee, I tilted my head to look at him, "we can think of something else." I wish it was that simple, my mind was dead to all productive ideas. Sam squeezed my knee in a reassuring manner, for which I was glad. Dean chose that moment to return to the motel; Sam hastily removed his hand and went to take the pizza boxes from Dean.

"What's going on?" Dean asked, looking between the two of us.

"Plans are no good," I mumbled, annoyed more than anything else. What a waste of an afternoon. "There's nothing underground in the area, at least not in those plans, they're too old."

"We need another idea," Sam stated, handing me a chipped mug with wine, guess a wine glass was asking too much when in a dingy motel. I took a slice of pizza from the box, now laid on top of the useless plans, up until now I hadn't realised how hungry I was.

"Oh, this is good pizza," Dean said through a mouthful of the stuff.

"I second that," I replied, holding my wine up in a toast. Two empty pizza boxes later and we found ourselves sat around the table, the underground plans now completely discarded. We were going at it from a different angle. It wasn't a brilliant plan, granted it was packed with flaws but it was all we had.

"So lets go over this again before Dean disappears for the night," Sam laughed lightly at Deans desperate attempt to escape, his plan to 'pick up a chick' being delayed by us.

"Dammit Sammy, we get it already, tomorrow we just head on into the sewers within the area of the dead bodies locations and hope we strike lucky and find the bastards place he likes to call home," Dean drained the rest of his beer, "sounds fool proof to me." Like hell it was but it was all we had.

With Dean gone, it left Sam and I alone. According to my watch it was just after nine o'clock, everything was shut and the motel didn't have wi-fi so there was very little we could do on the case.

"Sam? The other Shapeshifters you've seen before, what happened with them?" I refilled my wine and sat down on the battered couch once again.

Sam laughed, "We ended up wanted by the police."

"Oh, so not to be taken lightly, fabulous," now all enthusiasm I had for the case had disappeared.

"Not exactly, it was a good thing you called; we've had so much trouble with Shapeshifters. The first one we met impersonated Dean, it killed people disguised as Dean," Sam's laughter from before had disappeared.

"That explains Dean's hatred then."

"Pretty much," Sam opened another beer and topped up my glass.

"You know, I'm really not thrilled about trawling through sewers, I'm going to smell awful," I pulled a face, I didn't want to think about but it wasn't exactly something that was going to disappear anytime soon. "Not my idea of a fun day out."

"I don't think any of us are looking forward to it, Dean and I have done it a few times, still doesn't get any better," Sam shuddered.

"Is there anything you two haven't done?" I asked jokingly.

"Probably," Sam replied.

"Like what?" I asked, curious.

"Like live a normal life," okay so that was not the answer I was expecting from Sam. I could sympathise with him though.

"Not going to happen," I replied rather pessimistically. I wanted to believe it would happen but after seeing so much death I knew it would never happen.

"Why not? Deep down Dean knows I can't do this forever, I don't want to do this forever," he confessed. It's funny how drink has a way of producing depressing conversations.

"I can understand that," I said with hints of bitterness in my voice, "so what will you do?"

"Become a lawyer I guess, get married, it's what I was going to do, after we stop the yellow eyed demon," Sam confessed. I'd heard them mention this yellow-eyed demon. I thought they all had black eyes but I'd been corrected by the Winchester boys earlier today.

"I'm sure you'll stop him, you guys yourselves are unstoppable," I shoved Sam playfully, trying to lighten the mood.

"Not entirely although Dean likes to think so," Sam sighed.

"At least you have a brother, I'm doing this on my own," I mumbled into my mug. Hello depressive conversation again, they seem to be following me everywhere. "So," I said in a brighter tone, "I'm going to call it a night, I've drunk far too much and I wouldn't want to be tired for crawling about the sewers now would I."

"Ha-ha no," Sam replied, setting his beer down on the table. I pulled myself to my feet, my head protesting ever so slightly, I wasn't used to drinking so much, I blame the Winchesters. Setting my mug down in the sink I picked up my bag and jacket, by that time Sam was stood near the door, "come on, I'll walk you to your room."

"No it's fine, It's only across the parking lot," I protested, I was pretty sure I could take care of myself, I could take down a vampire so a walk to my room wasn't going to kill me.

"I'm not taking no for an answer, if the Shapeshifter is onto us then its better to be on the safe side," okay so my protest wasn't a brilliant one, in fact it wasn't really a protest at all.

"Okay fine, come along then," I walked ahead of Sam across the small parking lot, trying to prove that I didn't him, oh how wrong I was. I managed to trip over absolutely nothing, so much for the ballet lessons my parents put me through, apparently grace and elegance weren't my strong points. Regaining my balance I turned to Sam who was clearly amused. "Right, that, that never happened, got it?" I pointed my finger accusingly at Sam.

"Got it," he replied, the ghost of a smile on his face.

We continued across the car park in silence, I checked that my truck was locked as we passed it, call me paranoid but someone discovering my small arsenal of weapons was the last thing I needed. As we reached my door I turned to Sam, "that was very gentleman of you but seriously I would have been okay," I tapped my bag, where my pistol was hidden.

"Yeah sure as you so elegantly demonstrated to me not moments ago," Sam grinned, shoving his hands in his pockets.

"I thought we agreed that never happened," I said as I began to rummage in my bag for my keys. It's surprising how much stuff one can get into a bag. I pulled out my car keys, purse, phone, iPod, my pistol (which I handed to Sam, my own hands being pretty full) and finally the keys to my room. They just had to be hidden under all the crap in my bag. I looked up at Sam who was watching me with amusement, I took the gun from him, laying it on top of everything else, hoping it wouldn't end up hidden underneath all the crap when I needed it most. "So, I suppose this is goodnight," I shoved the key in the lock only for it to get stuck, naturally.

"Here let me," Sam leaned over and wiggled the key in the lock, barely giving me chance to move away. With a click the lock opened.

I hadn't realised Sam was so close until I looked up to say thanks. I blushed nervously, "err thanks," I mumbled barely louder than a whisper.

"Ah, err no problem I guess," Sam stammered in response. I met Sam's eyes, my goodbye momentarily forgotten. The embarrassing crimson blush on cheeks deepened further when Sam bought his hand up to my cheek, brushing away a few strands of hair. The drink, a mix of beer and the pinot grigio, was obviously affecting my judgement, oddly though, I wasn't too bothered by it. My subconscious had manipulated my body into moving closer to Sam; or rather I can blame my subconscious.

"Sam, I shou-," Sam's lips pressed gently to mine, cutting off my sentence about something, whatever I was going to say probably wasn't important if I couldn't remember it. It had been a while since I'd been in this situation, for several minutes I indulged the part of me that wanted this. The part of me I constantly refused to acknowledge, the part of me I shoved to the back of my mind, my mind that was currently over-thinking matters.

The feeling of Sam's lips against mine was, well I'm not sure how to describe it, I probably could if I wasn't so wrapped up in what was going on. Stood outside a dingy little motel, with Sam's arms resting around my waist, my own were placed on his shoulders.

I pulled away from Sam and bit my bottom lip; I certainly hadn't expected to be in this situation. I shouldn't be in this situation. "I should get to bed," I turned away pretty quickly reaching for the door handle, oh how I desperately wished for a quick getaway. I'd had too much to drink, in all actuality we'd both drunk a bit too much and this was just an overfriendly goodbye, one that should never have happened.

"Alice?" Sam's hand reached out to remove mine from the door handle, "Just hang on a sec okay?" I didn't say anything, I just waited. What could I say? Well probably a lot of things. I sighed and turned back to Sam, "I'm sorry."

I finally found my voice, "no, I'm sorry, I should have known better. I've had too much to drink it would be best if maybe we forget this ever happened and just get some sleep."

"I understand," Sam somewhat disappointedly replied I just hoped he did understand. "Good night," Sam let go of my hand, which I let fall to my side.

"Sam wait, I am sorry really," as I said that I could feel my eyes well up with tears, since when did I become so girly?

"Yeah," Sam replied, taking off towards their room.

"Good night," I doubted Sam could hear me by that point. I just hoped by morning it would all be forgotten and we'd move on from it and go back to annihilating the Shapeshifter then Sam and Dean could go off to god knows where and I can continue my one person mission to save the world.

As I closed the door to my room I didn't even bother with switching the light on, I just sunk to my knees and finally gave way to the tears. I choked back a sob, what a stupid way to react but I couldn't help it. Slowly, I was realising I liked Sam in a more than just friends way. I absolutely refused to give way to my feelings, stupid emotions, sometimes I really hated them. In fact me sitting on the battered carpet which things were probably living in sobbing my heart out was very stupid.

I stood up, wiping my eyes on my sleeve and switched the light on catching a glimpse of myself in the mirror not looking very glamorous with puffy eyes and red cheeks. A good night's sleep was definitely what I needed. I splashed my face with cold water in an attempt to snap myself from my miniature emotional breakdown and maybe sooth the dull throb now taking control of my head.

Lying in bed, in the dark, I couldn't help but wonder what Sam was doing and how he was feeling. It looked cut up to say the least but it had been the right thing to do. I wasn't going to allow myself to get involved with someone when I was hell bent on revenge against any possible supernatural thing out there in order to avenge my family, not a healthy way of life at all, and I wasn't even going to consider having a one night stand. Why I was even giving this thought when I had already long decided to not act on any feeling was beyond me. I'll just lay blame on lack of sleep, too much alcohol and my poor judgement.


	6. Chapter 6

**Hey! So yet another chapter. I'm going to start the next one tomorrow, think I've got some ideas on where to go next with this. Probably won't update till next week though seeing as I'm off to a music festival for the weekend, brilliant! Feel free to hate this or like this, I don't mind.**

**Oh, and no ownage of the supernaturalness**

**Chapter 6**

That good night's sleep I needed, it never happened. If it was possible I felt worse than I did the night before. Coffee, coffee was what I needed and lots of it. Reluctantly I dragged myself from the safety of the blankets on the bed and into the bathroom to splash my face with cold water in a vain attempt to wake myself up. With coffee checked off of the list ten minutes later, I was ready for a shower. Yes I know I was about to spend a good chunk of my day in a sewer so having a shower was pointless but I just didn't feel human. I needed to clear my head.

The warm water was a welcome relief, slowly I felt myself waking up ready to face the day. I needed to be able to face Sam with a clear head and stop the Shapeshifter, that's the priority, not my inner emotional dramas. For crying out loud, there were lives at stake. Last night can just be put down to an alcohol fuelled mistake. With any luck Sam would feel the same but I somehow doubted that. Shutting off the shower, I stepped out into the steamy bathroom and grabbed my fluffy towel, thankful that I had sense enough to own my own towel. The ones the various motels provided left a lot to be desired. Maybe someday I would stay somewhere nice, like a house.

Without my glasses the bathroom was a blurry mess but I managed to locate my toothbrush. The bathroom mirror was fogged up; in a moment of immaturity I drew a smiley face. It would show up every time the bathroom was used, leaving my own little mark on the place, unless it was cleaned which by the looks of thinks was highly unlikely. I wasn't quite daring enough to scratch my initials into the door frame. I just wanted somewhere to feel like the home. The closest thing I had was my beat up rusty red truck and bag with my belongings, as few that they are.

Clothes were next on my list, thank fully I didn't own anything nice, just jeans and shirts so it didn't matter if they got dirty or covered in some kind of sewer like substance. I opened the door and nearly screamed; two men were in my room. Within seconds I realised it was the Winchester. Realising I was still wrapped in my towel I felt self conscious. "Good morning Alice," Dean grinned. I held on tighter to my towel, glaring at Dean, I allowed myself a quick glance at Sam who thankfully was looking at the hideous painting over the bed.

"What the hell are you guys doing here?" I asked with hints of grouchiness and anger. I managed to keep the embarrassment under wraps.

"You wouldn't answer your phone," Dean replied, spinning his car keys around his finger.

"I was in the shower," Dean threw my phone at me; my hands were to busy clinging to my towel to catch it so it clattered to the floor.

"I can see that," Dean said clearly enjoying himself unlike Sam who was looking the other way.

"Are you going to pick that up?" asked Dean, honestly, I wanted to hit him

"Yes if you turn around, both of you," I narrowed my eyes at the pair.

"Make it quick, women take forever to get ready," Sam was the first to turn around followed by and unimpressed Dean.

"I'll be as quick as I damn well like thank you very much," with that I picked up my clothes from the bed and all but slammed the bathroom door. Really, the nerve of them two, although I have a feeling it was more Dean's idea than Sam's. I didn't exactly rush at getting ready; just to piss Dean off a bit. Finally finished I stalked out of the bathroom, picked up my phone from the floor and slipped my shoes on. "So what was so important it couldn't wait?" I asked with my attention on my phone. There were seven missed calls in the space of fifteen or so minutes, four from Sam and three from Dean. So they had tried calling.

Sam handed me a folded up newspaper, "front page." I opened it up and scanned through the article. Another person reported missing.

"The Shapeshifter," I stated rather than questioned.

"One and only," Sam replied. Excellent.

"So what now? We just continue as we were but instead we've got twenty four hours to put an end to the Shapeshifter before some one else goes to meet their maker," I quizzed.

"Yep," Sam replied, sighing. We all knew it was going to be no easy task but nonetheless we were going to embark on it anyway. What's the worse that could happen?

We finalised the small details over coffee and in my case breakfast but I wasn't really paying much attention, I should have been for safety reasons and all that jazz but my mind kept wandering to Sam who was sat opposite. I kept trying to make eye contact with him, to make sure everything was okay, no awkwardness. I'll have to get back to you on that though, so far it wasn't working. Maybe if I plucked up enough courage I'd corner him later to clear the air.

I looked up and caught Sam looking at me, I blushed slightly and looked down, "So then," I said looking up again, by which time Sam had looked away. "The fire chief who's missing, are we to assume that he's already dead?" I had to ask despite already thinking otherwise.

"Yeah, he's been swimming with the fishes for a while now," Dean answered. Not what I wanted to hear but if everything went to our very hap-hazard plan then hopefully no one else would kick the bucket.

I followed Sam and Dean's Impala in my beat up red truck, maybe I should consider getting a slightly less practical car and one that's snazzier. Maybe something that is capable of some form of speed and doesn't rattle so much. I shoved that thought aside as the river where the storm drain we were using to enter the sewers appeared to be getting ever closer. Brilliant, just what I needed.

The storm drain we were planning to enter through didn't look very enticing, if I'm honest but what sewer would. I wrinkled my nose in disgust; I was still sat in my truck and already I was loathing it. Shame that there wasn't another way, stupid life being difficult. I leaned down to wind up my window and glanced to the side where a dark shadow appeared. Dean was leaning down at the window, "ready?" he grinned.

"Go away," I know not the wittiest comeback but I was too busy thinking hatred at the sewer in my head to care. His stupid grin only made me wind up the window quicker. He opened the door and I stepped out, I looked across at the Impala. Sam was rummaging around in the boot. We had barely spoken ten words to each other all day, I needed to clear the air, although probably not the best time or place to do so.

"Cheerful aren't we," Dean sauntered over to Sam. I muttered a curse under my breath and went to the back of my truck to pull on my Wellington boots at least my feet would stay dry.

"Ready?" I asked the boys as I joined them. They both looked at me and looked at my feet. Dean laughed and Sam just sighed, "Laugh all you want, who'll be laughing when you have wet feet with bits of sewer gunk in their shoes?"

"I'll take point," Dean declared ignoring my last statement. He instead chose to look at Sam with an expectant look.

"Fine," Sam agreed.

Sam gave me hand to climb down into the storm drain, immediately the smell made me want to throw up. I covered my mouth with my hand, but that was pointless. Silence was our companion for the first five minutes, unless you count the constant trickle of water and occasional squeak of a rat. "Sam?" I all but mumbled, desperate for Dean not to hear, all I wanted was to clear the end. Sam didn't say anything but he made a sound encouraging me to continue, I couldn't blame him for not saying anything at least not with the smell. "Smells doesn't it," way to state the obvious but it made Sam chuckle. It helped to clear the air. I didn't wait for him to say anything; instead I continued "I'm really sorry about last night."

"You don't have to apologise, it's okay," Sam confirmed, I wasn't entirely satisfied that it was okay. His voice said one thing but his face said another. I perhaps should have questioned if it really was okay but I didn't. Instead I took the chickens way out and opted to carry on carefully picking my way through the sewer in all its grossness, although you probably already have that figured out.

I almost slammed into Sam's back as we came to a stand still, I should have been paying more attention but instead I was still moping about in my own mind, despite declaring that I wasn't going to do that. How pathetic.

"Left or right?" Dean said as we met a fork in the sewer. I had to get the street map out and try to guess where we were. I wanted to say right but I think left was a more accurate choice.

"Left," Sam said, casting a quick glace at the map.

"Well I say we go right," Dean turned to that tunnel.

"Dean you were going to say that just to be difficult," Dean just grinned in response.

Not wanting to get involved in the argument I walked past the pair and headed for the left tunnel, "that answer your question?"

The boys followed me, I know Dean said he would take point but if they were going to dilly dally like girls over a decision then I was taking the lead. I distinctly heard Dean mumble "still think we should have gone right." To be honest he was probably right, none of us knew where we were going.

We spent nearly an hour scrambling about below the surface and we stank, oh and to add to that we had so far found jack shit. The only excitement we'd has so far was Dean wanting to shoot a rat that fell in front of him, Sam's foot slipping into a particularly nasty puddle of suspicious looking brown liquid and well so far I had stayed moderately clean, I just kept jumping every time I saw a rat, which was pretty often. Sam and Dean found it amusing at first but that soon changed, now we just wanted out but the problem was once we left we wouldn't want to come back.

"This is frickin' useless!" Dean exclaimed.

"Quit complaining," I said, equally as fed up.

Ten minutes later and we were still bickering amongst ourselves, mix in with that some choice words and well we ended up being very unproductive.

"We need to be quiet, the noise we're making will give us away to the Shapeshifter," Sam had a point there, with that we continued mostly in silence, except for the occasional curse words. I wasn't one for swearing but I think exceptions could be made.

A while back we'd met a particularly narrow part of the sewer, thankfully I didn't slip into the vile water, this time I was once again faced with this obstacle. Balance had never been my strong point. My brother played ice hockey so his balance was perfect but mine well that was another story, balance is one of those essential things in life and boy did I wish that I could stay on two feet most of the time. Unfortunately this time balance wasn't my friend. I felt my foot slip from the ledge, I could have grabbed onto Dean, who was a few steps ahead of me, but I didn't want his wrath if I pulled him into the water with me. It wasn't deep water, it was just disgusting. Instead, well I didn't have time to do much else; I was going head first into the water. "Gaaah," I didn't have the sense to close my mouth, smart move right? I did have to time to shut my eyes and wait for my very ungraceful landing complete with splash. But that never arrived, infact, I was still dry. I opened one eye and then the other; I was kind of hanging over the water. Well that was unexpected. "Oh," was all I could say, my foot was wet but right now I didn't care. I was still dry. I could see Dean out of the corner of my eye wide eyed. Sam must have grabbed me, oh how I was grateful to him.

Sam sort of pulled me upright, I let the embarrassment flood me as I brushed myself down, trying to seem to cool, like that didn't just happen, no use denying it though, there were witnesses. "You okay?" Sam asked, with small grin on his face.

"Peachy," I muttered, then realised I probably owed Sam for that, "thank you, really."

"No problem, I couldn't let you land in the drink," he answered. I looked down at the water and couldn't help but agree.

"Sssh," Dean hissed as he turned away from us and walked ahead, leaving us staring at each other in silence.

I turned to follow Dean but feel slightly back, to speak to Sam, "how on earth did you manage that? Seriously you mu-" I wanted to scream as a hand clamped over my mouth. I hoped to god it was Sam's if not we were well and truly up a creek without a paddle.

"The Shapeshifter," Sam whispered in my ear and let go of me.

"Oh," I replied with a ghost of a whisper. I felt incredibly stupid. No wonder Dean was telling us to shush; I just didn't get the hint. Well I think I win the award for most blunders in the shortest amount of time.

I bit my lip in anticipation and tentatively followed Dean, trying my hardest to stay upright and quiet. Up ahead were two forks again, I guess we were going to have the same argument as before. Dean didn't even stop he just gestured to the right one and I could tell why. It was the Shapeshifter; we could hear its voice. Or rather a voice and it was more than likely it belonged to him. I couldn't work out what it was saying, it sounded like gibberish to me, like it was muttering to itself. Maybe it was crazy, no maybes about it. If it could murder people it was crazy, end of discussion.

We drew closer, each of us taking hold of our silver knives, although mine looked more like a letter opener. It better be able to pierce skin. "God Dammit!" Dean shouted making me jump. Whatever happened to being quiet? "Freakin' cassette."

I frowned and went over to an upturned cardboard box, he was right. A battery powered cassette tape was sat on top of it. That explained the voices. Curious, I picked it up and ejected the tape. It was a self help tape; this Shapeshifter was seriously messed up.

"Dean," Sam said, I looked up from the cassette player in all its retro glory. Sam was crouched down on the floor looking at one of the single most revolting things I've ever seen and I've seen a few of them. "It's a skin shed of someone, it's been here a while though," he explained.

"Just great, I am going to kill it," Dean kicked the cardboard box.

"We found the lair though," I said, it was a start at least. However, now we had another problem. "It knew we were coming."

"Alice is right," Sam backed me up, "it would have to been hear recently, that battery powered cassette won't last forever."

I racked my jumbled up brain for some kind of answer to our problem. It must know that we were after it, but how. It was annoying to say the least, someone or something had been spying on us. "We should get out of hear," I said with some haste, suddenly not feeling safe, "this thin has been following us." I gave a shudder. I really didn't like the idea of someone knowing what I was doing. Five more minutes of looking around the grubby little chamber in the sewer and we were heading back, twice as vigilant as before. I was filled with a sense of uneasiness that wouldn't; disappear.

Daylight was a something I was more than grateful to see, we had taken torches with us but honestly, daylight got to love it and the fresh air. God was that the greatest thing since sliced bread. Unfortunately I still smelt like rat ass from the sewer. A really good shower would fix that. "Errrgh! What a waste!" Dean was more than fed up.

"I need a shower," I stated, getting the keys from my pocket.

"Hold on," Sam said, "that Shapeshifter knows we're after it so be careful and don't trust anyone." I let a small smile grace my face, genuinely thankful for Sam's concern.

"You too," I replied, "I'll call you later, I just really need to get cleaned up. I think we all do." I looked to Dean who was wiping the bottom of his shoe on the river bank; lord knows what he'd trod in.

I left the boys pretty quick and headed for the motel and the useless shower that I was going to be thankful for at least for the time being. We we're staying in the same hotel so I would call later to meet up and try to think of where to go next. If this Shapeshifter knew we were after it was it treating this like a game? Or was it just trying to get rid of us so it could carry on?


	7. Chapter 7

**Hey, this has to be the quickest update I've ever managed, what can I say? I was on a roll. I want to write some more but I have packing to do for my festival tomorrow, probably should have done it by now considering its past midnight. Hope you like the chapter.**

**Don't own supernatural.**

**Chapter 7**

Shower, my new favourite word. I was in a much better mood after the semi-warm shower back at the motel. It was the first thing I did. For the entire journey back to the motel, I had the windows down in the car; I could literally smell the sewer on me, clinging to my hair. Gross didn't even begin to cover it.

Sam and Dean were later at arriving back at the motel than me, their car wasn't their when I showered but now it was. I picked up my phone and dialled Sam; I'd had a brainwave in the shower. Perhaps, all things considered I should have called Dean but I didn't want things to be weird so I went with calling Sam. Eager to share my thoughts I didn't even give him a chance to say hello, "Sam its Alice, look I've been thinking, we really need to speak to that guy," his name momentarily escaped me in my excitement.

Sam chuckled, "what guy?"

"The fire chief, errrrrm the guy who's missing, it's in the newspaper you had," Jesus why couldn't I remember his name.

"Brian Lawson?" Sam replied.

"Yes!" I almost shouted down the phone. "Right, well we should talk to his family, if he's only just gone missing, we need to find out who he was with, where he went that sort of thing."

"Didn't you say you'd spoken to friends and family of the others who have died and didn't really come up with anything, and that vice principle wasn't much help," Sam answered.

"It might slip up though or maybe leave a clue if it knows we're onto it, to tease us," after I said that I realised it sounded kind of stupid but it could happen. The Shapeshifter may be toying with us; we couldn't exactly rule that out, stranger things had happened to me.

"I agree, as unlikely as it sounds," so maybe it wasn't that stupid.

"I could go and say I used to work with that Brian fellow, although I guess his family would probably know who he worked, I'll give it a shot though," bloody acting skills again, I hated it. I can't be someone I'm not. Guess I'll just have to remind myself why I'm doing it.

"Dean and I'll go, we've sort of got a way to get the information easier," Sam said vaguely which only made me curious.

"What kind of way?" I felt I needed to know how; after all it could probably help me out in the future.

"FBI badges," yeah I needed to get me one of those.

"Oh I so need one of those," I would look so cool flashing my badge, dressed in a sharp suit and heels, pull off the sexy agent image. Although, I probably couldn't manage that, I still needed one though.

"Alice? You still there?" Sam's voice cut through my thoughts, how long had he been trying to get my attention. I'll blame his stupid FBI badge in all its glory.

"Yeah, I just sort of zoned out," I replied very much embarrassed.

"Something interesting?" that caught me off guard; I didn't expect him to be interested in what went on in the inner workings of my sometimes scary mind.

"No, it was stupid really," well it was.

"Hmm okay," he didn't sound too convinced, "so Dean and I will head over and get some information at the family home. Can you go to fire station, pose as a reporter or something?"

Errrgh marvellous, absolutely marvellous, oh how I hate having to lie and I've probably already mentioned my crappy acting skills but I agreed anyway, "sure," my earlier excitement had completely fallen by the wayside.

We arranged to meet later at the same bar as the previous day, to swap any information we fell upon, a part of me was pretty pessimistic towards the idea of finding information. So far we'd had very little luck, why should now be any different. Hopefully we'd catch a break somewhere. If only the Shapeshifter would just come waltzing out into the open and say something along the lines of 'hey, here I am kill me already' but that was just brainless.

With everything finalised I said good bye to Sam, "right, well I'll see you later."

"Yeah, oh and Alice?" Sam said, catching my attention as I was about to hang up.

"Hmmm," I replied.

"Take care, okay?" I faltered, was that not slightly straying onto territory I swore not to tread. I chose to ignore that, he was only looking out for my safety. I refused to believe that it was anything else.

"Yeah, you too," I answered then hung up before anything else could be said.

I changed from the comfortable jeans and shirt into a skirt suit thing. Cramming my feet into the worlds most uncomfortable pair of heeled shoes I hoped into my truck which sort of ruined the smart reporter look, best to park around the corner form the fire station, save myself the embarrassment. I definitely need a new car.

Lining most of the street leading to the fire station was posters, with Brian Lawson's face and in big red letters 'Missing' if only they knew that he was already dead and gone. I straightened my jacket on last time and tucked a stray hair behind my ear. How many girls would kill to be in my position at this very moment, walking into a building with hot fire fighters.

"Excuse me?" I called through the open door to the station. Someone had to be around if the door was open.

A middle aged man walked out from behind the shiny red engine parked inside, so much for my hot fire man theory. "Can I help you miss?" he asked before taking a puff of his cigarette. I would have thought that fire men wouldn't smoke health and fire risk and all that jazz.

"Err yes, I'm a reporter with the The Union Leader, I just wanted to ask a few questions about the disappearance of Brian Lawson," I tried my hardest to sound genuine, the man eyed be sceptically.

"If you think it will help find him any quicker," I took that as a yes, and honestly I did think it would help to find him just not alive.

The fireman, Jim was his name, had lots to say about Brian, plenty of praise but that wasn't what I was looking for. He probably was a good guy. Speaking to Jim it made me think, was the Shapeshifter really good at impersonating someone who did the people surrounding the victims just not know them very well to know that it was someone or something completely different. Even the wives didn't know that it was someone else. The only really juicy piece of information I managed to retrieve was that Bill was good friends with the Principle, they used to bowl together. That would explain how the Shapeshifter came into contact with his next victim. Perhaps it hadn't been a total waste of time talking to the fireman.

Driving back to the motel I kept circulating information in my mind, bowling, they'd both gone bowling. It was a long shot but I had a feeling, like intuition, that I needed to go to the bowling alley. I had a theory that all the victims may have been in the same bowling league. I remembered seeing a trophy in the principles office and at the time thought maybe it was a school trophy but if it was as school trophy surely it would have been on display for everyone to see. With plenty of time to kill I could get to the bowling alley and back to the bar with time to change.

The radio in my truck was playing up, yet again, frustrated I switched it off. Yet another reason to get a new car. Instead I settled for the silence, well except for the constant rattle of the truck. It wouldn't surprise me if the wheels fell off.

For mid afternoon he bowling alley was pretty busy, my ears were instantly filled with the clatter of bowling balls and pins. I felt very over dressed for the occasion considering the place was full of spotty teenagers obviously bunking from school and old men probably escaping from their wives for the afternoon. Sticking to the reporter persona seemed to be the most appropriate. Thankfully I didn't have to speak to anyone because posted on a battered notice board in the entranceway was a league table and team lists, pretty convenient for me. Biting my lip I scanned the information for the names I was looking for and sure enough every victim was part of the league.

I glanced around to see if anyone was watching before quickly taking down the paper and folding it up as I headed back out to my red rust bucket. At least this way I would have something productive to show as proof for an all but wasted afternoon.

Driving back to the motel the Shapeshifter once again took a hold of my mind to the point that I was barely paying attention the road. It was bugging the hell out of me to say the least, stupid evasive bastard. I liked a challenge but this case was starting to take the piss. A shrill ring made me jump and let go of the wheel, not a smart move. I quickly grabbed the wheel with one hand and reached into my bag for my phone. "Hello?" I said wedging the phone between my shoulder and ear without checking the caller ID.

"Alice it's Sam," immediately my heart skipped a beat, oh for crying out loud what was wrong with me.

"Oh hi," I attempted to play it cool, "what can I do for you?"

"The family didn't know anything, did you find anything out?" so their afternoon had been a bit of a waste as well, luckily I did have something.

"The fire station was a dead end," best to give them the bad news first, "but I did find out that Brian was in the same bowling league as the principle so I went over there and borrowed," more like stole "the team lists and guess what?"

"They were all on the same team?" Sam guessed, well he was almost right.

"Same league, different teams," I replied, "I'll bring the list with me later. Anyways, I'm driving at the moment so I'll see you later." Sam said goodbye and I was back to giving the road most of my attention alongside of trying to get my radio to work. I slammed my fist onto the dashboard trying to get it to work and low and behold it did to my surprise.

Changed into a simple red top and denim skirt I was ready to head to the bar. Before I left I double checked I had the list in my bag and walked down the street. After the previous night I wasn't even considering drinking but unfortunately when I arrived Sam and Dean had already ordered a drink and there sitting on the table was a glass of wine. To be polite I thanked the guys all the while giving the glass of wine evil looks, it didn't stop me from drinking it though. Taking out the now much crumbled piece of paper from my bag I attempted to smooth it out before placing it in the centre of the sticky table. I'd already underlined the victim's names. I ignored Deans muttered comment to Sam, it was something along the line of 'she's as geeky as you' I'm not a geek it just made sense to have it already prepared, to make things easier.

"Do you think the Shapeshifters next victim is on this list?" Sam asked, turning the paper to face him.

"Its more than likely," I answered. It didn't take us long to come up with a plan, a very tedious one. We needed to find all the names in the phone book and try and find out what their profession was. Thankfully the motel had wi-fi which might make it easier. If they were people of high importance in society then they would more than likely show up in a news story or on a web page of some description. All else fails we go to the address or call and see what we could find out about them. I picked up wine glass only to find it empty, well if I learnt anything from today it's that I never learn. I took my purse from my bag and stood up, "same again?"

When I returned to the table with the drinks Dean was missing, "where's Dean?"

"Men's room," Sam replied, at that moment in time I hated Dean for leaving me alone with Sam although deep down a part of me didn't mind, it was fair to say I also hated that part of myself. With Dean elsewhere we fell into a more than awkward silence, I racked my brain desperately trying to rack my brain for something to say, I looked down at the table where already managed to shred the beer mat I was using to bits earlier on. I risked a glance at Sam, who seemed just as uncomfortable as I was. "This is stupid," I said fed up of the silence.

"Yeah," Sam chuckled, "we should start again."

I raised an eyebrow, momentarily confused, "oh right, in that case, hello I'm Alice," I said brightly.

"Hi Alice, nice to meet you. I'm Sam," he replied holding his out for me to shake.

It was an odd thing to do I'll admit, we weren't exactly strangers but if it got rid of the silence then who was I to complain. "Nice to meet you Sam," well there was too much politeness and civility for my liking, it's just not natural, I couldn't help but laugh.

"So tell me more about the other times you've fallen upon Shapeshifters?" I asked genuinely curious. I was shocked when I heard that they'd been part of a hostage situation in a bank, which was the stuff of movies, I wasn't surprised to hear that they were wanted by the police for that. Had to take my hat of to their escape attempt though, if I was wearing a hat that is.

I'd heard so many tales from Sam and Dean over the past day or two that I was beginning to doubt if I should be hunting, compared to them I was so inexperienced. It mad me feel at such a disadvantage.

"You guys should write a book on this sort of thing," I said after hearing about something called a trickster.

Sam smiled, "our Dad had a journal, we've learnt a lot from that and we've been doing this for longer than you. A lot longer." I could detect a slight hint of bitterness in his Sam's voice, like he resented his childhood, he probably did but we all have our problems in life. It seemed I wasn't the only one clinging to a past.

Dean was taking his sweet time, I didn't mind, talking to Sam was insightful. It was just easier to talk to him with Dean around. I glanced around the bar briefly and spotted him talking to some brunette and an older guy. "Looks like Deans pulled another chick," I said causing Sam to roll his eyes, apparently this was a regular occurrence that Sam had just learned to live with. I could never imagine doing that sort of thing, my inner recklessness decided to speak up momentarily and tell me I should give it a go sometime, I just ignored it.

Eventually Dean returned looking quite triumphant, "I have some important information."

"That poor girl's number?" Sam asked.

"Yes, but that's not it, although that is certainly important," Dean replied as he looked back at her, his sentence trailing off. We waited for him to return his attention to the matter at hand.

"Dean?" Sam quizzed, "the important information?"

"Huh? Yes, that is the Sheriff and his very lovely deputy," he answered, "the Sheriff over there is a member of a bowling team, Split happens." That made me laugh, it was a clever name.

"He could be our guy," I said optimistically.

"Most likely, but we should check the list anyway, we can take ten each and search through phone books," Sam answered, it sort of shot my optimism in the foot. Looking through phone books for names wasn't my idea of fun and even when we had a way of contacting them it wouldn't exactly be easy to find out their profession. To ask them would look odd, we could always stalk them but that would be creepy much cooler to call it a stakeout.

We ordered some food from the bar and had one more round of drinks; I abandoned the wine and had lemonade instead, before heading back to the motel for the night, with intentions of trawling through phone books borrowed from the motel owner who looked at us oddly when we asked for them. For that task we sent Dean, so he could charm the elderly lady, it seemed to work much to Dean's horror.

Once in the quiet safety of my room I changed into my pj's and with the TV blaring away quietly with some late night chat show I began to look for my ten names, earning a paper cut in the process.


	8. Chapter 8

**Hey, right well back from my festival and I couldn't wait to write some more. I'm camping again this weekend so I might not update until this time next week. Hope you guys like this and thanks for the reviews =]**

**Chapter 8**

After locating the first name in the battered phone book I allowed myself to get distracted with my laptop. For a reason unbeknownst to me the motel had switched on its wi-fi so I was going to make full use of the opportunity. I had an email from a friend who I was doing a year abroad studying, what I was going to tell her when the so called 'year' was over I had no idea but I could deal with that when the time arrives. At the moment there were bigger fish to fry. For the best part of half an hour I flicked between various strange websites dedicated to Shapeshifters or the supernatural in general. It was insightful but most of it was just nonsense probably written by some greasy man who still lived with his parents in his thirties. There were an odd few websites that pretty much said the same thing as Sam and Dean, who I trusted more to know about this sort of thing than websites.

Realising I was wasting too much time if I wanted to go to bed anytime soon I closed the browser and opened excel to try and organise my search, at least that way I could highlight important stuff like occupation , phone number and address. Only eight of the names were in the phone book, four of which I found on the internet to be either a plastic surgeon, owner of a real estate firm, manager of a car sales place and an accountant. The remaining four I couldn't find anything for them online, not even a social networking account. I looked at the list, I'd highlighted in green the plastic surgeon, he seemed to be the most likely victim for the Shapeshifter, and this was closely followed by the owner of the real estate firm in orange. The others, as things stood, were at no particular risk unless the Shapeshifter changed tactic, which would really grate on my nerves a tiny bit.

One last time I saved the document I'd put together and then emailed it to Sam and prayed that he could understand it. The last job for the night was to update my iPod; it was long overdue for some new music. Within a few minutes of sending the email to Sam I got an instant reply, he agreed that the plastic surgeon was probably the most likely to be the next victim. Feeling quite pleased with my effort I put away my laptop and decided to call it a night ready for an early start in the morning.

And an early start it was, it took me an hour to finally feel awake after an overly strong cup of coffee with an unhealthy amount of sugar, it left me buzzing but at least I was awake. I met Sam and Dean in the diner down the street. Dean was ticking into a cooked breakfast that was oozing with fat, looking at it made me want to throw up. I ordered a plate of toast and yet another coffee and sat down with the boys. "Morning," I yawned. I was greeted with a similar response from them. Over breakfast we managed to throw together a plan of action for the day. Sam and Dean were going to look around the plastic surgeons house for any clues that he was a Shapeshifter and I was going to his office for a 'consultation' much to my horror to try and determine if he was the Shapeshifter. According to Sam and Dean you could probably tell if he was a Shapeshifter by the glare from its eyes on a camera. The problem was that we needed to look through a recorded image. Like a security tape. There must be some at his office.

As I was drinking the cold dregs of my coffee we were trying to decide what plastic surgery I would be getting, it certainly lightened the conversation. I really didn't like the idea, I liked how I looked or rather that's what I kept saying the truth of the matter was I was scared of needles and pain. Once, on a trip to the dentist I'd passed out, not one of my finer moments. Demons or spirits no problems but if I see a needle I'll run a mile.

"I still think you should go for breast implants," Dean grinned.

"No, I am not taking my top off for someone who might kill me," I answered with a frown.

"But you'll take it off for anyone else," he continued, seriously did he have a death wish.

I kicked him none too gently under the table as Sam warned him, "Dean."

I smiled with satisfaction as he reached under the table to rub his shin, that'll teach him to make out that I'm some kind of slut. "I'm sticking with a nose job thank you," I drained the last mouthful of the coffee and picked my bag up from the floor. There was no point in putting off my suffering, by now I was pretty fed up of trying to pretend to be someone else. Why couldn't I be the one investigating the house, they were probably going to flash those fancy FBI badges of theirs, "how are you going to get into the house?" I asked curiously.

The pair exchanged shifty looks and then Sam looked down guiltily. "You're breaking in," I rolled my eyes, of course they were. They didn't answer but it kind of went without saying. I decided not to ask any more questions and instead left them to it.

For the entire drive to the doctors' office I kept glancing at my nose in the rear view window, I didn't like to think there was anything wrong with it, in all actuality I liked it but I had a feeling that faking it to get to the plastic surgeon was making me paranoid. Shoving the paranoia from my mind I thought of Sam and Dean breaking into someone's home. A part of me thought it must be quite thrilling but then again I didn't fancy jail, I'll stick to a safe life. Well as safe as my life gets.

I really wasn't looking forward to having someone tell me I wasn't perfect for the next hour, chances are Shapeshifter or not I would want to stab him with the silver knife by the end of it. The guy, a Dr Marc Wilson, he was certainly the stereotypical surgeon, expensive clothes, perfect smile and gorgeous body. I guess that's reason enough for the Shapeshifter to take on his form. For some reason I felt this was a pointless exercise but one that kept the doctor out of his house whilst Sam and Dean snooped around so I suppose it wasn't that pointless. Within the first few minutes the so called Doctor had managed to insult me and bring out my insecurities.

"I can see why you wouldn't like you nose," Dr Wilson said, honestly the cheek of the guy but I had to make it sound like I really wanted the nip/tuck.

"I know, it's like hideous," I replied playing the dumb vain girl persona. I wanted to punch myself in the face; hopefully the boys were having better luck. The whole time I was on the look out for anything suspicious but I felt, despite not knowing the guy, that he was not the Shapeshifter. He seemed so genuine despite being a complete dick, then again surely the Shapeshifter was supposed to be genuine so he could pull it off, wasn't it the power he wanted anyways. I left the plastic surgery centre feeling very negative and hating the world, I'd tried to stay positive but honestly it was difficult, not only did I think that he wasn't the Shapeshifter but I'd also had someone pick faults with me for the last hour. What had really tipped over the edge was when he had said, "Have you considered having botox?" Honestly, I was twenty two, I was still young dammit. Instead of stabbing the guy, Shapeshifter or not, I took my frustration out on the road, completely ignoring the speed limit.

I rolled to a stop at a red light and cast a glance in my rear view mirror; a police car had just pulled up behind me. Taking note of this I watched my speed, sticking five below the limit, a speeding fine was the last thing I needed. It followed me for the next five minutes, fabulous, something else to add to my irritation. To make matters worse it set off its siren complete with flashing lights, signalling me to pull over. What the hell! I wasn't speeding.

"What seems to be the problem officer?" I said as I unwound my window, I actually quite liked using that clichéd line straight from any number of films. I wanted to laugh but that wasn't the best thing to at the present moment in time. Instead I kept a straight face and I looked up at the officer who I couldn't help but feel some form of familiarity towards, maybe it was the uniform. It had to be.

"Are you aware that you have a break light out?" was that it? I wanted to smack my head on the steering wheel repeatedly. It was at that moment, as I looked up at the officer that I realised how familiar he was. He was the Sheriff, the badge kind of gave it away and he was the one who Dean was talking to, small world.

"Oh, no I didn't," and that was the god honest truth, at least I lived to speed another day. Within a few minutes I was on my way again, only towards a garage for a bulb, I had time to kill anyway. Sam and Dean were going to call me when they were done, which actually meant Sam was calling me.

I pulled into the garage and checked my phone, there was a missed call from Sam, he must have phoned when I was talking to Dean's Sheriff buddy. I called back, "Hey Sam, sorry I didn't answer, I had a run in with the Sheriff." That would make him worry.

"What happened?" he asked clearly worried making me feel guilty.

"Brake light out, listen, the Plastic Surgeon, I don't think it's him," I said, I let Sam talk before I continued.

"Brake light?" he seemed amused.

"Yep," I confirmed.

"Picky," he needn't say that twice, "we had the same impression, but it was never going to be easy to tell."

"Still want to cause him some form of bodily harm though," I muttered to myself.

"What was that?" Sam said I should have known that he would hear.

"Oh nothing, just talking to myself," I tried to make it convincing. "So what now? We check the surveillance tapes?"

"Yeah, we'll meet for dinner and head over there tonight," I hung up and went to get myself a bulb for my brake light. I was more then glad that Sam shared the same thoughts on the plastic surgeon.

Later on, as dusk was falling, Sam knocked on my motel room door; I stepped aside to let him in, "no Dean?"

"No Dean," he confirmed. I was unsure what to think to that, since that rather interesting night a few days ago I had hardly been alone with Sam. "He's out with the deputy for a drink."

"Oh?" I said, intrigued.

I turned away from Sam and busied myself with my mascara and shoes, not letting it bother me that we were alone. Sam explained further about Dean as he stood awkwardly near the door, "if it's not the plastic surgeon then we need any information we can lay our hands on so Dean jumped at the chance to talk to the Deputy."

"Naturally," I replied with a laugh.

"I thought we could still go out for dinner," Sam said hopefully, I guess he was worried I would say no.

"Yeah, cool, well," I paused as I picked up my bag, "I'm ready." I knew Sam liked me and after the other night I would more than willingly have said no to avoid the constant feeling of embarrassment but I wasn't quitter. I liked Sam but as you are probably sick of hearing I couldn't go there.

With silence we walked two blocks to a Chinese restaurant and said very little until we'd sat down and ordered, "I'm not looking forward to returning to the plastic surgeons later," I said voicing my thoughts aloud.

"How come?" Sam asked.

"The place was horrible, too clinical and well I don't like him," that didn't sound like a very sound reason but I couldn't help the way I felt.

"With silence we walked two blocks to a Chinese restaurant and said very little until we'd sat down and ordered, "I'm not looking forward to returning to the plastic surgeons later," I said voicing my thoughts aloud.

"How come?" Sam asked.

"The place was horrible, too clinical and well I don't like him," that didn't sound like a very sound reason but I couldn't help the way I felt.

Sam raised an eyebrow so I told him what he said, "I hope you didn't listen to him, I think you look perfect the way you are."

I could fell my cheeks burn as he said that and looked away, I had no intention of forcing myself to change the way I look, it was the compliments I had an issue with. It had been a long time since I had been out to dinner with some or even received a compliment, it was a nice change.

Over dinner we talked some more about the case, bouncing ideas off of each other, there were still two more possibilities on the list that we had so far ignored because all three of us felt that it was the plastic surgeon, so if watching the surveillance tapes gave us no answers then we would turn our attention to them. One of them was the Sheriff, which is why it made sense for Dean to talk to his deputy. Although I had a feeling that it was more than likely that Dean just wanted some action.

With dinner over with we paid and left, Dean was already waiting by his car in the parking lot. It made more sense for us all to go in one car. Sam insisted I sit in the front, I loved that he was such a gentleman, however, I chose to ignore him and sit in the back. I expected Dean to drive fast and I wasn't disappointed, although I will admit it was slightly scary sitting in the back.

Dean's drink with the Deputy hadn't been very helpful, apparently the only unusual thing was the Sheriff taking a sick day but that could just be a sick day. It did get me think though, after all the Sheriff was on the list but was I just being overly suspicious. Apparently Sam and Dean also shared in my suspicions when I voiced them although still continued with our plan for now, if only to rule out the plastic surgeon.

Nerves started to build as I realised we would have to break in to watch the surveillance cameras, it was just nerves though, it adrenalin and excitement. Sam picked a window lock on a window around the back of the building and within seconds we all scrambled in. Between us we must have seen nearly ten hours of footage in the three hours we were there for and not once had we seen any eye glare from anyone. "The Sheriff it has to be," Dean sounded pissed that he was wrong about the plastic surgeon, I couldn't blame him.

We checked that we weren't on any of the surveillance tapes during our little night time escapade. Dean left through the window first and I was going second but before doing so I knocked a rather expensive vase from a shelf as I passed by, Sam raised his eyebrows in surprise, "what the hell was that?" Dean whispered loudly.

"I accidentally knocked a vase over," I tried to sound innocent and hoped it worked. Dean rolled his eyes and muttered something about being clumsy.

"That was no accident," Sam whispered in my ear as I began to climb out of the window. It made my heart skip a beat for some inexplicable reason.

"Yes it was," I said but knew I was fighting a losing battle, Sam saw straight through it.

"Okay fine," I caved in, "the guy said I needed botox and that he could see why my nose needed work, let's call it pay back."

Sam didn't argue back he laughed instead. I realised it was a childish thing to do but I now felt better about myself. I waited for Sam as he shut the window after climbing out, "didn't you listen when I said you are perfect as you are?" he didn't wait for my answer but instead walked straight past me to the car. I was left standing gob smacked in the car park. I shook my head and went to their car.


	9. Chapter 9

**Hey, here's another chapter. This chapter is a bit of a dud one, I really struggled with writing the second half of it. I do however, have lots of ideas for the next chapter and a few after that, I managed to scribble them down when I was camping at the weekend. Anyways I hope you like or at least find it slightly okay. **

**Chapter 9**

The following morning, once again over a very unappetising breakfast, we bounced ideas off of each other. With Dr Wilson crossed from the list our suspicions shifted to the Sheriff, Sheriff Fred James to be exact. "He's in the bar almost as much as us," I contributed.

"So much for setting a good example," Dean muttered from behind his coffee.

"So we just wait in the bar for him to come wandering in, then what?" Sam said.

"It's a shame every case can't be solved by sitting in a bar," Dean sighed. I had the distinct impression that he spent a good amount of a time in a bar when he worked a case anyway.

Sam was determined to ignore Dean's unhelpfulness and ploughed on regardless, "what night does the bowling league meet?" he asked me.

I momentarily racked my brain, if I was honest I wasn't completely paying attention, my mind kept wandering to what Sam had said before we got in the car last night. I scolded myself realising I was taking too long to answer; the odd look I was receiving from the Winchester's wasn't helping, "Thursday?" I hadn't meant for it to sound like a question.

"Tomorrow then," Sam confirmed, I nodded and then allowed my mind to wander again. Dear lord, what was wrong with me today? It was only a compliment, it meant nothing but a part of me wanted it to. Frustrated with my own tragic mind I slammed my head none to gently down onto the table, my eyes shut tightly. I had to get my mind back on the case. "You okay?" Sam's voice cut through my inner turmoil, I thought maybe he was talking to Dean.

"Maybe she needs more coffee?" Dean suggested, so Sam was talking to me.

I seized that as my chance to shift my attention back to the case, "Yes! That is exactly what I need," Dean gestured to the waitress and we returned our musings to the case.

A short while later and we finally had a half decent plan. Tomorrow we would head to the bowling tournament, and try to catch the Sheriff's eyes on tape; if the glare was there then we would snuff out its life so to speak. If not then it was back to the drawing board. Until then we would be checking out the only other person on the list who might be our bothersome Shapeshifter, the Real Estate chain owner. With the bill paid we headed for the closest Real estate office.

Dean pulled up outside, "I'll pick you two up in an hour," my eyes went wide with surprsie.

"Aren't we all going?" I asked allowing my surprise to surface. Even Sam was surprised at the arrangements.

"Not a chance," Dean answered, " It's much more convincing if you two go and pretend you are looking for a nice house complete with white picket fence." I frowned.

"And what are you going to do?" Sam asked, seeing to accept his fate.

"I have a lunch date with Sarah," he grinned like a school child. The Deputy again, I was just hoping he was doing it for the sake of the case, probably not though.

Sam got out of the car, he obviously felt it was no use arguing, "Alice?" he asked leaning into the car.

I would plot Dean's demise later, putting on a happy face, I climbed out of the back of the car and slammed the door, "Oi!" Dean shouted. I pretended not to hear him and smiled sweetly and waved goodbye.

"He's going to kill you for slamming that door," Sam said as Dean sped off into the distance, "same story as last time?"

"Why not? It's consistent," I answered. Sam stuck his hand out for me to take; I raised an eyebrow slightly confused but took it anyway.

"Got to make it convincing," Sam provided enough reason for me so I accepted my fate and tried to mentally prepare myself. Fate, he's a cruel bastard or so I seemed to be discovering more and more with each passing day.

Once inside the office the office we were greeted by a bubbly receptionist, I couldn't help but like her. Speaking to someone so friendly made me relax slightly so it didn't feel so much like acting. I felt less fake; a feat in itself considering the whole situation was fake. Maria was the receptionist's name, a local girl; she bought us coffee and biscuits and left us with a balding middle aged real estate agent. He introduced himself as Steve.

I should have let go of Sam's hand before we sat down but I found it too comforting. Not a good sign, my mind was practically screaming at me but I ignored it. I should have taken those screams as warning bells and run for the hills. In reality, I kept a hold of Sam's hand.

Sam did most of the talking; I just threw in the occasional comment, smile and nod. "Somewhere to settle down and start a family then?" Steve confirmed. It was such an odd thing to hear. Buying my first home with the man I love was something I'd always thought would just happen but that was when I was ignorant of the world when I believed that there was no such thing as monsters under the bed. The balding realtor left us for a short while so he could fish out some brochures.

"We need to steer the conversation in the direction of the local area and what's been going on," I whispered to Sam. It was true so far we hadn't even touched on the subject and several murders weren't something that was generally overlooked in town gossip.

"I was thinking the same," he answered, Sam squeezed my hand in reassurance. I hadn't realised I was still clinging to Sam's hand. Letting go was what I needed to do but I couldn't. I wanted to kick myself, shock some reason into my crazy mind.

Realtor Steve returned with an armful of glossy brochures, he set them in front of us. I used this as an opportunity to let go of Sam's so I could browse the many houses we weren't buying. I picked up a brochure of a new development in the suburbs and moved closer to Sam, I had to make it look convincing despite shocking myself at the ease of being with him. It was all just pretend though; as soon as this case was over I could go back on the road and find a nice easy case. We weren't there to look at houses, despite how tempting some of them were, "So what's the local area like, the local paper keeps mentioning murders, is it common?" I dived straight in with the question; I had to stop teasing myself with the houses. I needed to get the information, get out of hear and then plot Dean's demise for forcing me into this situation, of course that is if he doesn't kill me first for slamming his precious car door.

"Yes its sad business," the realtor said without looking up from the brochure he had opened and placed in front of us, "but I can assure the area is very safe." I wanted to roll my eyes, what a predictable answer. He was bound to say that, at the end of the day he still had to sell houses and make a living.

The realtor obviously wasn't going to say too much on the murders, it would be bad for business so I decided to try a new tactic. I was going to push for more information, the school seemed a good place to start, "how are schools in the local area?" it was my way of finding out if he knew anything about the principle, I needed something, a flash of recognition in his eyes but there was nothing.

I saw Sam offer a quizzical look in my direction; I hoped he would pick up on what I was looking for, anything of importance. "The schools are excellent, rated third in the county," he didn't see how many though, he was still trying to sell us a house unlucky for him we weren't buying just wasting his time.

After asking him a few more questions about the town, one about churches in the area, we took a few brochures and left. Once outside and halfway down the street I dropped the brochures in a bin, feeling considerably better. "What a waste, he's not the Shapeshifter," I complained. Sam had asked about the company's history and managed to find out that the owner, the one who was on our now diminishing list of suspects, had been out of town for three months setting up two new branches in the south. He wasn't the Shapeshifter, he had an alibi.

"Just leaves the Sheriff," Sam tried to put a positive spin on the situation.

"Can't we just waltz in there and stab him with some silver now?" I wanted to, and then I could get back on the road, job done and dusted.

"We need to be sure," he answered; I had to agree, thank you morals.

I kicked a can a little too aggressively on the pavement. We went back to the motel, it was a bit of a walk and the heavens were threatening to open. The rain held off though, maybe the big guy upstairs didn't hate me so much. Normally he went out of his day to make my day a living hell, or so I thought. Not that he was real, I just needed someone to blame so I could feel better.

Then again maybe the man upstairs did hate me. Sam was locked out of their motel room so me being the kind caring fool that I am offered for him come to my room instead so we could work on the case. After the morning I had suffered with my mind trying to trick me into slipping up and letting myself get closer to Sam, spending an afternoon with him was the last thing I needed. The space would have done me some good, I could re-evaluate my life. Get back on the right track instead of punishing myself.

We stopped at a deli for lunch. For once I could eat healthy pasta and not a burger. I really wasn't looking forward to the afternoon. It gave me more reason to want to eradicate Dean.

"Once we get confirmation the Sheriff is our guy we'll have to get him alone," Sam said from across the rickety table in my room. It didn't take a genius to work out that getting him alone would be the last few minutes of his life. It was a shame the Sheriff was already dead. I would have liked to have prevented any more deaths from happening but you can't win them all.

We scribbled down a few ideas or rather the top ten ways to get a Sheriff on his own so you could kill him. Normal people read books, we plotted a murder. "I could quite easily have bought a house this morning, it was certainly no incentive to stay in this career path," I longingly sighed. Sam looked up at me from the old battered looking book he was hidden behind.

"You should, this isn't a healthy career choice," he answered. From the look on his face he blatantly shared my thoughts. Neither of us wanted to be doing it and yet her we were. "It's more of an obsession than a career," he stated nothing but the truth. Sam was spot on when he said that, I was bitterly obsessed with revenge for my family. When I thought about it like that, it became nothing but petty. I was too stubborn for change though. That was my whole damn problem.

"I can't just stop this now, the naivety is long gone," I chewed on my lip as I let the words sit there. Not since my family's death had I been so open. It was Sam's fault. Sam set aside his book and leaned forwards, his arms resting on the table. I faltered slightly in my explanation, it was too late now though, I'd already begun explaining, may as well open the flood gates. "It doesn't exactly work wonders for trust. I want to settle down, few kids, a husband and a steady job but how can I trust people. They might be a Shapeshifter or a Demon or a Vampire."

Sam didn't disagree with me, "You have to trust people at some point."

"I trust you," I had to open my big mouth, as soon as I realised what I said I looked away and blushed. I'm such an idiot. Next time I'm sticking to talking about the case and nothing but, not that it was going to happen.

"I'm glad," Sam shared a tender smile. What could I do but blush further? I would give anything for an interruption. A few minutes silence proved that there wasn't going to be an interruption. When I looked back at Sam he was still looking at me, I couldn't look away something was stopping me. Whatever it was I wasn't bothered for the time being.

"So," I said, looking down at the collection of paper on the table below, "bowling tomorrow night." It was time to retreat back to safe territory, the case, like the coward I was.

"Yeah," Sam replied with a quiet sigh that I could barely hear.

By the time Dean phoned almost an hour later we had pretty much covered every possibility of turning up at the bowling league night. After a brief conversation with his brother Sam hung up and stood up, stretching. "Did your brother find out anything knew?" I asked despite already knowing otherwise.

Sam laughed, "No, you honestly didn't think he would, did you?" I shook my head and shared in his laughter. The way the two brothers got on with each other made me long for the banter I had with my brother. I quickly forced that from my mind though, I shouldn't be so negative.

We said our goodbyes, leaving me on my own. Despite having hated the idea of spending an afternoon with Sam I now missed his company. To spend so much time on my own I'd learnt not to miss people but the moment they became a part of my life I missed them again. That'll teach me to be so cut off from the world

To clear my head I went for a shower. A bath would have been ideal but that wasn't about to happen. The hot water worked wonders in providing me with some clarity. All day doubt had been eating away at my sanity, telling me I should pack this in and call it a day but I couldn't do that. At least not yet, in a few years I might feel differently but for now my young minded needed to do this so I could overcome the grief of losing my family. When it comes down to it the revenge I was so keen on was just an outlet for the grief.

After this case I decided that I wouldn't contact Sam or Dean again. From now on I would do everything myself no matter what the circumstances. That wasn't the true reason though; truthfully I just couldn't be in contact with Sam. Slowly he was destroying the walls I built around myself and I was helping him. Around him I could be more myself, the tough outer shell I had was caving in and I couldn't allow that to happen under any circumstance.


	10. Chapter 10

**Hey, apologies if this chapter is a bit jumpy. I've been writing it on and off since I last updated but each time I keep getting distracted but alas, tonight I got it finished with help from my friends Ben and Jerry. Oh how I love cookie dough ice cream =]**

**Think I forgot a disclaimer thingy on the last chapter, not this time though. I don't own Supernatural.**

**Chapter 10**

I was more than happy to have the following morning to myself. My plan was to head into town for a new pair of jeans and maybe a jacket but that go off to a slow start. It was nearly eleven when I awoke, not that I was complaining about the lie in, it was very much needed. I picked up a croissant from a bakery and bottle of water and walked to the shops. For the briefest of moments I considered driving but then the guilt washed over me of all the fatty horrible food I ate at various places, the exercise, although not wanted, would do me some good. Yeah I'm not totally convinced on that one. At least I had a chance to be away from the Winchester's for a while but knowing my luck I'd probably bump into them.

The walk didn't take as long as I anticipated, that could only mean more time shopping. It's a shame I really don't like shopping, if it wasn't for that I'd probably enjoy it. I wasted no time in getting what I needed; the only bit of shopping I could bare was the bookstore. Thankful for their sale I stocked up on books and headed in the general direction of a really good cup of coffee to pass the time before meeting the Winchester's later on.

As I lugged my bags down the street I had to stop when my attention was captured by the familiar uniform of the Sheriff, issuing a parking ticket to some poor fool. At least, despite being the Shapeshifter (I had no doubts about it, regardless of the lack of proof as of yet), he was doing his duty. I still wanted to plunge a nice silver blade straight through his heart and end the case right there and then. The more I watched him like some kind of creepy stalker the less likely he was the Shapeshifter. It was so convincing. How could he be anyone but the person he was supposed to be? I shook my self mentally, he was supposed to be convincing. With a coffee shop insight I walked off leaving the Sheriff to ruin someone's day.

Reluctantly, nearly two hours later, I left the coffee shop where I'd read a good chunk of one of my new books and returned to the motel to meet the Winchester's and returned to the twisted supernatural hunting that is normality. "What time do you call this?" Dean called from across the parking lot; I stuck my tongue out in response because I'm that mature and continued to my room.

"Chill out Dean, it's only a few minutes," I heard Sam say to his impatient brother. I was only ten minutes later than planned, that wasn't massively late. Worn out after walking back with the bags I dropped them in my room and headed out to face the wrath of Dean.

The Winchester's were casually leaning against their shiny black car. Oh sure, they can lean on the car but slamming doors isn't allowed, go figure. They called the car something but I'd obviously switched off from the conversation, a cars a car. Cars weren't really my thing, I knew how to put oil in and gas, what else did I need to know? As far as I'm concerned that's enough.

"Do you want me to drive?" I offered it seemed I was constantly sponging lifts from the Winchester's. Dean looked at me with a look on his face as if to say 'yeah, right' and opened the driver's side door of their car. I'll take that as a no. "Then let me shout dinner," I said as I climbed into the back of their car before Sam could protest otherwise.

"Won't say no to that," Dean replied. I prayed that they wouldn't find anywhere too expensive. As the engine rumbled into life loud music burst through the speakers making me jump, honestly wasn't expecting that. Sam reached to turn it down only for Dean to turn it up again and mumbled something about driver's privilege. With an apologetic look from Sam we were on our way for food.

Dinner wasn't too painful on my pocket and we actually invented a half decent plan of action. Let's just hope it goes to plan. Dean was going to join a bowling team, he'd already told the deputy sheriff that he was knew in town. Sam and I couldn't do it, it didn't fit with the story we'd used when investigating others around town. We left Dean at the doorway to the bowling alley; we were going to sit in the alley bar whilst he joined their tournament.

With drinks in hand we sat so we were facing the lanes, phones out on the table so we could look for the eye glare thing on the camera. "I don't believe it," Sam said incredulously.

"What?" I asked, thinking he had confirmed our eye glare on the Sheriff.

"Dean got a strike," the surprise was more than evident in his voice, I didn't see what the big surprise was several others had strikes, our Sheriff Shapeshifter even had two. Sam explained further, "Dean's crap at bowling." I laughed, imagining at hopeless Dean on a bowling alley.

"He's not the only one," I replied. We used to go bowling as a family, fifty percent of the time my ball would end up on the next lane; it definitely wasn't my true calling mind you neither was this. I elaborated more to Sam about my lack of bowling ability, much to his amusement and my dismay. The sensible and smart thing would have been to keep quiet but no, I just had to open my big mouth. Excellent. In an attempt to divert the topic I picked up my phone and flicked to the camera, the idea was to make it look like I was sending a text message but instead I was on operation find glare. Maybe that needs a catchier name.

Zoom on a camera is an excellent function, it made things easier when you were looking for a Shapeshifter but I doubt that's what they were designed for. The only problem was the picture turned grainy; the glare should still show up though according to Sam. A few minutes of holding up the phone to my face and my arms were getting tired. I put it down; if I held it up any longer it might look suspicious. "I think he knows what were doing," I said glumly. Sam frowned and looked in the Sheriff's direction. "He's just not looking this way," I complained.

"Well the lane is in the opposite direction, he doesn't have much reason to look this way," Sam reasoned. I knew he was right I was just getting fed up. Apparently Dean isn't the only one with patience issues. "Another drink?" Sam asked picking up the empty glasses.

"Well if I must," I replied. Over the last few days I'd drunk way more alcohol than I normally would. Yet one more thing to blame the Winchester's for. We'll just not even consider that I could have ordered a coke or something. With Sam gone I made another attempt at trying to catch the Sheriff's eye glare but he wasn't there. I abandoned my phone and looked around frantically worried he'd cottoned on and left. My fears subsided when I spied him leaving the men's room, he looked in my direction but I couldn't pick my phone up quick enough. I felt stupid for panicking like that; if you've got to go then I guess you've got to go. It wasn't like he was going to tell us 'oh, sorry you'll have to stop stalking me for a few minutes whilst I use the bathroom.'

"What's the matter?" Sam asked with genuine concern as soon as he returned. I thought I did well at trying to hide the whole 'I'm worried our suspect has disappeared when really he hasn't' thing. Apparently not.

"Oh," I blushed feeling incredibly stupid, "I thought the Sheriff had disappeared." The look on Sam's face darkened, "but he hasn't," I added hastily. Relief flashed across Sam's face.

Sam sat down and picked up his phone, his fingers flicking across the buttons. I assumed he was sending a text message to Dean so as to update him on our thus far unproductive evening. Perhaps I was wrong in thinking that the whole point of these bowling things was for the husbands to escape their wives and a have a few drinks with their friends but so far not a single one has headed for the bar.

I rested my head on my hand, staring off into the depths of the dingy bowling alley to where the Sheriff was currently residing. Didn't these people know we were working on something? Sam's hand on my knee snapped me back to reality. What on earth was he doing! I'm pretty sure if looks could kill then Sam would be lying dead on the floor. "I think Dean may have more patience than you," Sam chuckled lightly, "you need to keep still; we can't have it knowing we're on to it." It was then it dawned on me that I'd been tapping my foot none too gently in my impatience. Okay, so I over reacted to Sam. Tapping my foot and staring right at the guy weren't doing us any favours in trying to blend in with everyone else.

"You're right, sorry," I picked up my drink and let Sam try to catch some eye glare on his phone.

Needing something to do I reached into my bag and pulled out the battered notebook I'd written all my notes in. Flicking back through it I wanted to double check in case we'd missed something. I didn't think we had but it couldn't hurt to check.

"Getting anything?" I asked as I flipped backwards and forwards through pages of illegible scribbles.

"No," Sam replied, just as fed up as I was.

"It's because he's looking at the lane and not us," I replied giving Sam a similar speech to the one he gave me, just to annoy him and make things more interesting.

"I never would have thought of that," Sam answered dryly. I watched him as he picked up his beer, my mind wondering back into the dangerous territory I was trying so hard to avoid. There was now way I fancied Sam, absolutely no way.

For the next half an hour we made no progress, just another round of drinks but I guess you could call that progress depending on how you look at it. Players kept coming to the bar but not the Sheriff. It seems everyone was buying him drinks. I guess you needed the Sheriff as a friend if you were to avoid all those parking and speeding fines. My foot tapping had stopped; it took a lot of effort on my behalf. Instead I shredded a beer mat to pieces and not just mine but Sam's as well. I hadn't realised until tonight how impatient I was. Being on my own all the time I expect I just never noticed it before.

I set my phone down, the Sheriff not standing still long enough for me to catch any eye glare and looked to Sam who started to lean closer making me nervous, he tucked a hair behind by ear "Alice, he's heading towards the bar," Sam whispered sending chills down my spine. It was stupid. Maybe, had my entire mind not been turned to jelly then I would have more to say on the matter. Sam was only doing it so it was less obvious to the Shapeshifter waltzing our way but it had more of an effect on me no matter how hard I was trying to resist. Hold on a second, let me be honest, I wasn't even considering trying to resist thinking about Sam anymore but I needed to if we were to send our Shapeshifter on a one way trip to the worm buffet.

I'd heard what Sam said but I couldn't process it quick enough, thankfully, Sam had picked his phone up and hopefully fingers crossed had caught the proof we needed so we could kill it. "Did you get it?" I whispered shuffling closer not that I could get much closer, so I could see the image.

"Yeah," Sam replied showing me the phone. I took it from his hand, I could see the bright glare from its eyes but I wanted a closer look having never seen it before.

"Wow, so it's good bye Mr Shape shifter," I felt relieved. Once it was dead we could all move on and I could go back to what I was used to but I'm getting ahead of myself we have to first we have to ice the bastard. With the revelation of the glare I'd managed to shove the annoying Winchester from my mind, I just had to keep him out of it.

Dean joined us at the bar as people were heading off for the night, "so?" he quizzed immediately, taking Sam's beer and downing it. Sam shoved him almost making him choke. I guess that was the response he was after.

"So," I took it upon myself to answer Dean not being overly helpful. He'd got to have all the fun whilst we sat around stalking the Sheriff; I wasn't going to make it easy for him.

"So, is the Sheriff our guy?" he set the empty beer bottle down with a thud.

"Take a look," Sam showed him the picture. I finished my drink so we could head off, the bar man looked as impatient as I was earlier only he wanted us to leave so he could close for the night.

"That was awesome!" Dean exclaimed once we were in the car. Apparently, it wasn't cool for him to do that in the bowling alley.

"Dean you finished last," Sam replied raining on his parade.

"Yeah, I wouldn't brag about it," I grinned as Dean glowered back in the rear view mirror and turned the music up, whatever it was.

Once back at the motel Dean headed inside their room evidently fed up of all the teasing we'd given him on the way back. The light-hearted laughs were more than welcome after all the plotting we'd done for the Shapeshifters death so far.

Sam shut the car door and leaned against the car, looking very smooth, not that I was thinking about him. "So, what happens next?" I asked. I wanted to go and ice the thing as soon as we saw the eye glare but apparently people would have something to say if we just strutted up and stabbed the Sheriff in the middle of town.

"We need to get him on his own," Sam answered, instantly my mind took off thinking through various scenarios.

"I'll ask him for an interview, but somewhere isolated, maybe a quiet coffee shop or bar and then we can corner him in the car bark or an alley. Then just take off into the sunset," I blurted out way too eager.

Sam laughed at my eagerness, "sounds good to me, I'll run it by Dean and we can iron out the kinks over breakfast." Brilliant, I finally wasn't relying on Sam or Dean for ideas on all this Shapeshifter jazz.

Dean came out and locked his car and I said good night to the Winchester's, "I'll call you in the morning," Sam said as I headed for my room across the parking lot. At least they were going to call in the morning and not just let themselves in so I could die of embarrassment again.

After shutting the creaky door to my motel room I lean against it and let out a sigh I didn't know I was holding as realisation washed over me. I could deny it all I like but it was no use. I fancied Sam Winchester. With my eyes shut tight I bashed my head against the door wishing that particular realisation back into a forgotten part of my mind. It was no use though; I was going to spend the remainder of my evening and what was probably going to be a sleepless night fretting over my realisation desperately trying to convince myself otherwise.


	11. Chapter 11

**Hey, apologies, I meant to have this chapter up on Monday but I've been away and then just plain busy (yes, not a very good excuse) unfotunately not much happens in this chapter, anyways let me know what you think of it and thank you for the reviews =]**

**I don't own Supernatural.**

******Chapter 11**

The following morning, tired and grumpy, I headed out to get a bottle of water from the vending machine. Turning away, ice cold bottle of water in hand, I headed back to my room. At six am it was still slightly too early to meet the Winchester's and besides Sam hadn't called yet. Not that I was looking forward to hearing from him. I was still baffled as to my sudden change in feeling despite knowing it deep down all along but it wasn't entirely Sam who was occupying my mind. It was the case as well. I was seriously rethinking my whole existence. My one and only reason for hunting was revenge, in my grief I had become so single minded but slowly I was starting to think differently. It was being with the Winchester's, it had to be, nothing else had changed in my life.

They say that time is the best healer something I'd shunned for so long but now I was starting to believe it. This one way revenge trip was it really all that important? Without a shadow of a doubt I was saving a few lives along the way but was it what my family wanted me to do, not that they could say otherwise. For some reason or other I was starting to think that maybe I should stop and think more about staying alive rather than picking fights with death. My parent's would want that for me, for me to carry on and be safe and happy and since they died I've been neither of those.

With time to kill I returned to my room still pondering over the thoughts floating about in my jumbled mind. Three large posters over near the reception caught my eye. They weren't that hard to miss. There staring me in the face was well, my face along with those belonging to my Winchester friends. This wasn't good.

Immediately I ripped down the three posters and ran across the parking lot praying that no one had seen them yet, not that it would make a difference I'm sure they were spread all over the place. The parking lot was deserted, sensible people were still in bed something I was more than grateful for.

I was actually glad that I had been up so early and should probably thank Sam for it because I was still trying to get my head around my change of attitude towards him. It probably was pretty simple but I had a habit of complicating matters then again who doesn't.

Arriving at the room Sam and Dean were sharing I knocked on their door trying to be quiet but as I began to understand just how bad the situation was I banged on the door with my fist, repeatedly until one of the damn Winchester's answered the door. "Sam? Dean?" I whisper-shouted still banging on the flimsy motel door, it might be easier just to kick it in.

A very groggy, half asleep Sam answered the door, his hair sticking up on ends. He was wearing grey sweat pants and a dark green shirt. I was staring at Sam Winchester, completely forgetting what I was doing there. "Alice?" he said clearly perplexed over my being there.

"I think we need to cancel breakfast, take a look at this," I said with urgency shoving the torn down pieces of poster in Sam's face. After a quick glance at them, which seemed to wake him up he stepped aside for me to enter their room and then switched the light on. Dean was still in bed; he groaned and pulled the covers over himself. "Wakey wakey, rise and shine sleepy head," I chimed brightly in an attempt at sounding not bothered about being wanted.

"Dean seriously, you need to see this," Sam sat down, laying the posters across the table. None of our pictures were flattering they were from cacti cameras. Reluctantly Dean crawled from his bed and stared down at the posters.

"Son of a bitch," he muttered angrily slamming his fist down on the table.

I sat on Sam's bed, letting it all sink in. This certainly caused a bit of a problem. Upon reading the posters further we discovered that we were wanted for all the murders that the Shapeshifter had committed, fabulous. I was with Dean on this one, son of a bitch indeed. We were well and truly screwed and that was putting it politely.

Never in my entire, all be it relatively short, hunting career had I been on the really bad side of the law. I usually managed to scrape out of the situation by the skin of my teeth at the very most I usually only pissed a couple of people off.

"First things first we need to stay out of the eye of the general public," Sam clearly had his thinking head on and he was right.

"Easier said than done, I'm hungry," Dean replied not seeming overly phased by the latest development as if it was a rather annoying every day occurrence. It probably was for him.

It didn't take long before we had some idea on what to do. The safest thing was to get out of the motel before the police showed up once we were spotted by some resident or other. My truck was packed with my belongings and I followed the Winchester's a few miles out of town where, a bit off the beaten track, they had seen an abandoned house.

When we arrived I could see that abandoned was an understatement. The faded paint on the wooden panels was peeling away and they were warped by sun and damp. An overgrown garden, missing roof tiles and smashed window only added to its charm. At least we wouldn't have to pay to stay here. "Can we just get one thing straight," I stated once we had the door open, "I'm having the nicest room." With that I took off up the rickety staircase to lay claim on my room as if I was five years old again. If we treated our Shapeshifter friend to some silver I probably wouldn't have to sleep here at all.

The room I ended up with was at the back, painted in hideous shade of green with a rusty iron bed complete with moth eaten mattress. Like I said, charming. At the thought of the bed I shuddered, I think the floor was going to be my nice comfy bed. I had a sleeping bag in the truck which would be some sort of comfort when I got around to sleeping.

Almost completely shaded by trees and away from built up areas the quaintly dilapidated home would give us a better chance of staying away from the cops, with a bit of luck at least. I returned back downstairs where Dean was still cursing 'it's just another one to add to the list, I mean it Sammy I'm out for blood." I wanted to turn around and go back upstairs or outside and let Dean cool down but unfortunately we had business to get down to.

"I still don't see why we can't just walk into the Police station and stab it," I ranted, "honestly, we are wanted anyway so what does it matter?"

"Because it's loaded with cops who'll probably shoot first ask questions later," Sam replied spoiling my fun.

"What can we do then?" I replied. Frustrated I threw myself down onto the couch sending up a cloud of dust.

For most of the morning we plotted and re-plotted, apparently that's all we were capable off for the time being. By lunch time we were too hungry to continue, I bought in a handful of cereal bars from my glove box in attempt to tide us over until we could locate something more nutritional. I was hoping for Thai food but I would more than likely have to settle for pizza or something else smothered in calories and fat. Dean went out to get food leaving Sam and I in dingy living room we were currently squatting in with papers sprawled out across the infested carpet. Between the three of us we had decided to either call the station and declare a shooting at which point we could then kill the Sheriff away from large amounts of people but the problem was there was no guarantee that the Sheriff would come he might just sent one of his minions. The other plan we were considering was to go to his home at night under cover of darkness and surprise it with a knife through its heart. As with any plan it had at least one fault. The Shapeshifter knew we were onto it so he'd or rather it'd be expecting that we needed to be one step ahead of it.

"This is going to sound crazy," I said to Sam, breaking the thoughtful silence we'd fallen into each of us had been racking our brains for some form of feasible plan.

"Crazy is probably what we need," he replied exasperated with the whole thing. He set down what he was reading to listen to me, I felt my face colour slightly as he gave me his full attention. In the past that wouldn't have bothered me but with Sam now part of the thoughts on a constant loop in my mind things were becoming a different story. I just had to figure out what to do.

"Okay then, one of us should hand themselves in as a way to get close the Sheriff Shapeshifter thing and then with its attention diverted the other two can sneak in and bam!" I got a bit too carried away in my excitement; I thought it was a really good but stupid plan, "it wouldn't expect us to waltz right in and own up to it."

"You're right that does sound crazy," Sam laughed.

"A little too crazy right?" I realised how ridiculous my idea was.

"Just a bit," so it was back to the drawing board again. Every time we tried to think up something no matter how preposterous we still ended up with the same ideas we started with and out of those I favoured the safer ambush in the Sheriff's home idea. Sam seemed to agree, we were just waiting for Dean to get back in the hope of a unanimous vote.

Abandoning our scheming for now, Sam and I wondered outside for some fresh air, "this case has certainly made me rethink a lot of things," I told Sam as we leant against a rotten fence surrounding the property. He looked at me quizzically, I would never in a million years mention my change of feelings but I was willing to or rather I needed to share the other thoughts I was beginning to pay close attention to spurned on by now being a wanted felon. "I've never had a case like this before, nothing so complicated and now that we are wanted I don't even have an old life to go back to not unless I want to spend it in jail." I wasn't a quitter I just felt my parents would prefer it if I did go back to my old life safe and sound.

"Who's going to thing bad of you for going back to college?" Sam said.

"It isn't that simple? After everything we've seen we're supposed to just drop back into our old lives and pretend that Shapeshifters, ghosts whatever it is doesn't exist. I'm sorry but I can't do that," I huffed, fed up with my annoying mind.

"It wouldn't be easy, I tried it and ended up hunting again," Sam told me about his childhood so I knew it was different for him. He was born into it whereas I had a choice. This quest I was on for vengeance was it really worth it? I had been so blinded by grief over my family's death that hunting seemed the right thing to do at the time but my parents wouldn't have wanted me in danger yet I seemed to go out looking for it. The only thing I was doing was running from my problems. Sam spoke up providing me with the perfect excuse to run from my thoughts, "hey, cheer up, this time tomorrow it'll all be over and done with" Sam said trying to sound more positive about the whole thing, not that there was a lot to be positive about.

"Yeah, hopefully," I muttered to myself as Sam wandered back inside. I stayed alone for a while longer; the only sound to be heard was the occasional crow and odd car out on the road in the distance.

The now familiar growl of the Impala racing up the dirt track leading to the house bought me to attention. It was time to return to the case and stop moping about in my own self pity sadly no matter how many times I said that I still did it. I wandered back into the house and sat down amongst the scattered scraps of paper and picked up my pad of paper. The paper was covered in scribbles and doodles and not much in the way of ideas.

"So, what have you got?" Dean said as he walked through the front door.

"Nothing new," Sam replied as he organised some of the paper to give Dean some room to set down the pizza boxes he'd bought back. I opened the lid of the first box and already two slices were gone, I guess Dean really was starving.

With the pizza finished with we tossed the boxes aside and resumed work on the case, it really was becoming tedious and it was only afternoon. I thought by now we would have finished it if only it wasn't for the set back of being wanted. That really chucked a spanner in the works. "I give up," I slammed my almost empty pad of paper down and stood up, stretching my legs, "we're going with our original idea and ambush it in the Sheriff's house."

"But we-" Dean began.

"No buts or arguments, that's what we are doing and that's final," that shut Dean up and made me feel better. I saw Sam grinning out of the corner of my eye, in the week that I'd spent with the Winchester's I'd gone from pretty much hating them and their help to well, the complete opposite. It was the only good bit about the case. I really was changing.

"Tonight then," Dean clapped his hands together, almost too eager.

As dusk approached we sat around, Dean was cleaning a shotgun whilst Sam trawled through a book. Meanwhile, I'd only just awoken after an afternoon nap; apparently my sleepless night had been more sleepless than I thought. The nap only served to make me more tired, explain how that works then.

We were all going in one car, it made sense. Once again I offered to drive but Dean didn't think that my truck would go fast enough if we had to make a quick getaway, the cheeky son of a bitch. I'd like to prove him otherwise but unfortunately he was right. Speed was not a friend of my rust bucket truck.

A strange silence fell upon us as we packed up our things; it was like the calm before a storm. The tense atmosphere didn't improve as we headed back to town under cover of night, praying not to be recognised.

"Which one's the Sheriff's?" I asked as we drove along a long tree lines street.

"Number 783," Sam answered without looking at the paper he'd jotted it down onto.

"783," I repeated to myself over and over again as we slowly made our way down the street. "There!" I pointed at the single story white house. We continued to the end of street and the turned around parking just down from the Sheriff's house on the opposite side of the street with all the lights on the car switched off. For what seemed like an eternity we sat and watched the house for activity. There was a car on the drive so he had to be in, we just wanted to be sure and as of yet no lights on the front of the house had been switched on but there was still time yet.

All three of us were getting bored; maybe the Sheriff was out tonight, which had to be about right. How wrong I was no sooner had I thought that then a light appeared downstairs despite what looked like a very thick pair of curtains in the window. Wow, coincidence. "Look at that, the mandroid is in, Ronald would have loved this" Dean said. I looked at him oddly not even bothering to ask; actually I wasn't sure I wanted know.

"This is it," Sam said, pocketing his silver knife. We quietly exited the car and with a quick look around crossed the street, trying to avoid the light cast from a street light. With ease we scrambled over a low fence and disappeared behind an overgrown bush in the garden. Sam was right, this was it, we were finally going to introduce our Shapeshifter friend to Mr Silver.


	12. Chapter 12

**Hey, two chapters in one week definitely a result of not being able to sleep. I'm going to be really busy over the next three weeks with my dissertation and moving back to uni where I won't have internet access for at least two weeks but I'll try and get a few chapters up when I can. Anyways, enjoy the chapter =]**

**No owning of anything Supernatural.**

******Chapter 12**

I took full advantage of the adrenalin coursing through my veins as we crept around the back of the property trying to find a quiet easy way into the house. It was exactly like being a secret agent. Sam tried a kitchen window but had no luck, "locked."

"Suppose it would be too much to ask that the back door is unlocked," Dean said dryly. He was stood leaning against the house next to Sam. I tried the back door but it was locked, Dean had a told you so look upon his face.

With a window and a door locked we were running out of entry points, there were two other windows we could try although with the others being locked I wasn't too optimistic. Dean tried one window whilst Sam tried the other, neither of them opening. "Now what?" I whispered urgently desperately looking around for any kind of answer to our problem. I didn't care how extreme it was so long as we got in although smashing a window would give us away.

Sam grinned, "You're not going to like it." He was probably right but what choices were we left with.

"Try me," I answered trying to put on a brave face in an attempt to keep up with the Winchester's.

"There's a window upstairs that's open, looks like a bathroom window, if we can get you up there then you can let us in downstairs," he was right, I didn't like it not in the slightest.

If there was ever something I despised it was heights, I could easily fall to my death. I'd sooner hug a werewolf than scramble up there. Looking up at the tiny window I realised I had no other choice, "wonderful," I answered Sam with heavy sarcasm.

There was a drainpipe running up the side of the house a short distance away from the window ledge I could use that but then again my climbing skills were crap. We bickered amongst ourselves for a few minutes trying to determine the best method of getting me through the window that was looking smaller and smaller the more I looked at it. My favoured method was to not go at all but they weren't having any of it.

Five minutes later and I was clinging to the drainpipe for dear life with Sam and Dean giving me a leg up, pretty sure I might have accidentally kicked one of them in the face. Damning the Winchester's to hell and back I grabbed hold of the window ledge and managed to find body strength I never knew I possessed to pull my self up and through the tiny window. Success! My sense of accomplishment was short lived though, I still had to quietly creep downstairs and unlock the door which should have a key in it or close to it or so I kept hoping, if it wasn't then things would get a whole knew level of complicated. The last thing I needed was to get stuck inside the house with the Shapeshifter on my own. At least I still had the silver knife that I'd been given if worse comes to worse.

Wearing a rather ridiculous grin I stuck my thumb up at the boys down below and turned my attention to the job at hand. With my dislike of heights conquered for the time being I headed for the stairs, the muscles stiff in my legs from climbing and here was I thinking I was relatively fit.

The landing was dark and narrow and at one point I almost walked into a door, if only I could switch on a light such a shame that would give the game away. From what I could tell the décor was mostly old fashioned, a rather funky oil painting hung at the top of the stairs but it was beyond identifiable in the dark. I mentally scolded myself for admiring the décor, now was not the time to become an interior designer despite how nosy I was. The first step I took on the stairs created an awful creaking sound, I had to hold my breath hoping that the Sheriff wasn't paying attention and was immersed in the idiot box. Nine more steps and two more creaky steps later I was safely downstairs. By now I could hear the distinct sounds of a television and could see the flashes of light it cast underneath what I guessed was the living room door.

I was amazed at how we'd managed to get this far and still remain so quiet, I would have thought that someone would have seen or heard us. For once good fortune was well and truly on our side. Normally, on my own, I never really had much of a problem but the three of us tripled the risk and why not add onto that being wanted it made for super fun times. We were really fighting the tide so to speak.

With haste I made my way to the back door in the kitchen and was ecstatic to see a key in the lock which made scaling the side of a house totally worth it. I was trying not to let it show how much of a thrill the whole thing was as I tried to act the calm experienced hunter I wasn't. "Did you enjoy that?" Sam whispered as he walked past me, holding a gun. It had to be the one he said they had silver bullets for.

"Yeah but I never want to do it again," I smirked knowing full well I probably would end up doing something similar if I continued to hunt, everything just gets stranger and weirder the more I hunt.

"You did well," Sam said sounding more.

"Are you two just going to stand there and a have a chin wag all day?" Dean huffed impatiently from the doorway I'd walked through moments ago. Sam and I exchanged looks and followed Dean now completely serious and silent.

Sam took hold of the living room door handle ready to open it so Dean could burst into the room, Sam would then follow and I would stay in the doorway preventing the Shapeshifter from escaping. Easy.

"Ready?" Sam mouthed. We nodded only to stop mid-nod as the high pitched chime of a doorbell cut through the silence adding to the fear I'd managed to keep bottled up until now. My high from mastering my small climb which I personally classed as being worthy of Everest proportions had worn off leaving only the fear.

"Dammit," I whispered slightly too loud but that didn't matter, I doubt I was heard. Where could we go? Upstairs? Out the back? Another room? It wasn't looking good. Sam and Dean were already high tailing it out of there and I was just stood there confused and scared. I didn't even have a sarcastic remark to make not that it was the time for those.

"Alice!" Sam hissed as he turned back gesturing for me to follow. I was too slow on the uptake; my legs were glued to the floor caused by a mix of exhaustion and fear. Sam's hand closing around mine seemed to spur them into action as her dragged me with him. He'd managed to cross the space between us in several steps and we were now making a run for the back door. All precautions about noise forgotten as our feet slammed onto the tiled kitchen floor that we'd previously crept over carefully.

"It's you!" I heard the bark of the Sheriff as he raced out of his living room, the visitor at his front door long forgotten. Crap. There were probably other more colourful words but crap seemed to some it up quite nicely for now. We leapt over the fence running for our lives, Sam's hand still holding tight to mine. As we ran out from down the side of the house we narrowly missed colliding with the Sheriff who must have made a mad dash for the front door. I wasn't one hundred percent sure but it looked to me like another officer was with him. He was probably the one who had rung the doorbell and foiled our attempt on the Shapeshifters life. I wasn't going to give this much thought; the only thing I should be thinking was run and breathe. We didn't have time to get into the car despite it being straight in front of us so we kept running. Dean was already much further ahead of us. If we didn't hurry we would soon be spending a night locked up.

Racing down the street I realised that the Sheriff would have phoned it in and we'd soon have more cops on our tail than you could shake a stick out. We needed to get back to the car but we couldn't do that when it was in plain view of the Sheriff's house, we just had to hope that he hadn't twigged that it belonged to the Winchester's. He would have a field day if saw the small armoury they had in the boot of their car.

I looked back, praying that I wasn't going to loose my footing in the process, and saw the other officer in full pursuit. We were screwed. At least I wouldn't have to worry about returning to my old life. "Sam, we're being chased," I shouted as I tried to breath at the same time.

"I know, just keep running," he replied. It was easy for him to say he wasn't the one with an almighty stitch in his side or lungs that felt like they were about to explode. I don't think I'd ever run so hard in my life, the soles of my feet were even starting to hurt but I had to run and that was all that mattered. There would be time to catch my breath when I was lying in an uncomfortable bed in a cold cell later on.

We turned another corner and the officer disappeared from sight but so had Dean. "Dean," I said, now clutching my side.

Sam looked back at me worried, "will be fine." Momentarily I thought back to the sewer below the streets where we'd gone looking for the Shapeshifter, I now favoured that to this. "Down here," I followed Sam, still clinging to his hand for dear life. We'd crossed a parking lot and ended up in the entrance to an alley way. I looked back again before we disappeared down the alley, only for my feet to stumble but I managed to stay upright. The officer was still gone from our tail but we could hear sirens in the distance. For now we needed to find somewhere to hide. That didn't mean that we slowed our pace. I continued to follow Sam, scared and lost. The alley way emerged onto a side walk. I felt my pace slowing from exhaustion and my legs protesting. "Alice, come on not much further we just need to get off the road." I knew Sam was right but I was too tired to answer instead I put all my effort into sprinting.

The familiar site of the school we had visited emerged on the opposite side of the street. Thankfully at this time of night there were very few cars about allowing us to cross the road and enter the empty school grounds. Rushing around the buildings we reached a field shaded my trees and slowed down, eventually stopping.

I let go off Sam's hand and dropped to my hands and knees desperate to catch my breath and get some feeling back into my legs. Neither of us spoke for what felt like ages as we both fought to control our breathing, finally I looked up at Sam who was bent over, hands resting on his knees next to me, I smiled wide finding the whole thing utterly ridiculous, "I never want to do that again," I laughed, an odd thing to do all things considering, lets put it down to exhaustion.

Finally able to breath normally and no longer laughing I sat back on my knees and let the gravity of the situation sink in, "I'll call Dean and find out where he is," Sam explained and then took out his phone. It seemed to ring for ages; I hoped that Sam was right when he said that Dean would be fine. "Dean! Where are you?" Sam all but shouted into the handset. I couldn't hear his response but could guess he was in a similar situation to us. I shut out their conversation and concentrated on this knew turn of events. We still hadn't killed the Shapeshifter, honestly, what a tricky bastard.

I laid back on the damp grass and closed my eyes trying to relax a little which wasn't an easy task. Sam ended the call sitting down next to me, "Dean's going to get the car and call us so he can pick us up but he doesn't know how long it will take." I nodded, too tired for words. "Are you okay?" he asked, his voice laced with concern.

Sitting up I opened my eyes, giving Sam my full attention. His cheeks were flushed from running; he was clearly as exhausted as I was. "Just peachy," I replied making him chuckle, "how about you?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," I nodded now lost for words.

I immersed myself in replaying the events of the last hour in my head, if Sam hadn't forced me to run I would have been toast, I needed to thank him for it. "Thank you, I don't know what happened back there but I know for a fact that if you didn't drag me with you then I'd currently be making a new home in jail."

"Did you expect me to leave you behind?" I blushed, realising that neither Winchester would have left me, although Dean may have been reluctant to rush to my aid knowing I was a useless hunter. "Alice you need to trust me if we're to work together," Sam pulled out that old chestnut again.

I knew he was right, "I told you I trusted you." Sam sighed, I guessed out of frustration, no matter how many times I said it I still couldn't give meaning to my words. The walls I'd built around myself were now almost completely crumbled but they were still there making things difficult. I gazed at Sam allowing myself to forget the chaos that had unfolded around us. For now I felt safe, I'd felt safe the whole time I'd clung to Sam's hand for dear life. That was what my parents wanted for me, to be safe. If being with Sam made me feel safe then there was my answer. I still needed to prove to Sam that I trusted him, "the moment you took my hand I knew I'd be safe, I kept a hold of your hand knowing that you'd do your best to stop any harm coming to me and to you."

Sam's face softened and he took my hand again destroying that last little bit of wall. On the outside I was calm and collected but inside I was nervous wreck with a heart beating a thousand beats a minute. Unaware of what I was doing I scooted closer to Sam and rested my head on his shoulder. I closed my eyes and listened as the sirens faded away, they must have figured that we'd be long gone by now.

"Alice," I heard my name but refused to listen to it, "Alice," there it was again and this time with shaking. I opened my eyes having dozed off on Sam's shoulder, how embarrassing.

I lifted my head up startled at how close I was to Sam, "Yeah?"

"Dean's on his way," Sam stated, I hadn't heard his phone so guess I must have been pretty out of it.

"Oh, right yes," I stumbled over my words as I fought against the need to kiss Sam that had surfaced. I had to get a grip on myself, what a stupid thing to even think about doing. Obviously I wasn't listening to reason and found myself pressing my lips to Sam's. Crap. That totally said everything against what I'd told Sam days earlier and this time there was no alcohol involved.' Get out of that Alice' I told myself. Sam's hand on my cheek seemed to dissolve the longing to escape.

It was hardly a romantic kiss sat in a dark damp field no doubt smelling of sweat and the ground but I wasn't going to complain instead I allowed myself to become totally absorbed in it. My hand clenched around Sam's jacket to steady myself.

We broke apart, still with our foreheads touching, "we need to go and find Dean," Sam said huskily.

"Hmmm," I replied not making effort to move instead I let Sam kiss me again. He was right though, if the cops saw a car hanging around they might get suspicious. I really didn't want to do any more running, not for a long time so I pulled away from Sam.

"Come on," Sam stood up, pulling me up with him not giving me time to collect my thoughts. My legs were like jelly but I managed to plough on back across the field towards the school and the road hand in hand with Sam. It was odd but a nice odd.

Dean was already there when we reached the front of school, I let of Sam's hand wanting to avoid any questions for now, "Hey," Sam said as he opened the door as if we hadn't just been chased by police. We scrambled in and Dean sped off down the street, barely slowing to take corners. I immediately went to staring out at the dark blurry streets through the window.

"What happened to you two?" Dean asked who was constantly looking the rear view mirror checking to see if we were being followed.

I exchanged a look with Sam and smiled, "we lost you and the officer who chasing us," I let Sam explain.

"I didn't," Dean muttered bitterly, guess that solves where the officer disappeared to.

"How'd you lose him?" I was glad Sam asked that, I was curious.

Dean grinned and turned off the main road, "Dean," Sam moaned. I figured that Dean must've hit him over the head or something like that.

"What else was I supposed to do?" I rolled my eyes and let them argue amongst themselves allowing me to reflect on what happened with Sam.


	13. Chapter 13

**Hey, this is probably going to be the second to last chapter. As of yet I'm still undecided as to whether or not to write a sequel, I'll probably just start another completely different story. Thank you for the reviews, hope you like the penultimate chapter =]**

**Don't own Supernatural. **

The car rolled to a stop outside the abandoned house we were temporarily calling home. My mind kept replaying the events of the last few hours, some more prominent in my mind than others. I let myself collapse onto the sofa. Tired was an understatement, my muscles were beginning to stiffen up; I was thirsty and completely drained of any energy. All in all it made for a very grumpy Alice. I felt sorry for the Winchesters', whichever one decided they would disturb me from my own little world.

"What are we supposed to do now?" Dean ranted away. I don't think neither Sam nor I were paying attention, we were each too occupied with our own problems, I know for certain that I was. I looked across at Sam and grinned, he had plonked himself down in one of the threadbare armchairs that had been left by the previous owner. He smiled back behind Dean's back. For now it was our little secret, I wanted to shout and scream to let everyone know but regrettably professionalism had to take centre stage.

"Are you even listening?" Dean stopped his ranting and stood in the middle of the room.

"Yeah," Sam replied. I certainly hadn't been listening; I didn't want the doom and gloom to rain on my parade just yet.

"Really and what was the last thing I said?" Dean pressed, already knowing that Sam hadn't been paying attention.

"Errrrrm," I could see Sam battling with himself to come up with an answer but to no avail.

I sat up, deciding that Sam had suffered enough, "we don't have time to waste trying to decide if Sam was listening or not."

"You weren't either," accused Dean. Now he was the one wasting time that we didn't have.

I sharply replied, "That's beside the point, now shut up and listen." Dean looked taken aback and opened his mouth to answer back but I didn't give him any chance, "I want this finished tonight, no more Shapeshifter and no more being wanted," who knew I could be so bossy. I reached into my pocket for my cell phone and went over to the table, flinging bits of paper everywhere until I found what I was looking for. One of the wanted posters hidden beneath mountains of sheets covered in notes we'd made.

"Alice?" Sam quizzed as he joined me at the table. I ignored him and entered the phone number into my phone. Dean appeared on the other side of the table. At least I had the Winchesters' full attention now. I hit the call button and let the phone ring in my ear, "who are you calling?" Sam asked but I refused tot ell them. They'd stop me right there and then and as far as I was concerned I had a pretty good idea.

An officer who sounded half asleep answered the phone, "The Sheriff, please," I didn't even bother with a hello. I had to get straight to the point.

"Are you insane!" Dean shouted trying to reach across the table for the phone. I stepped back only to bump into Sam, I contemplated making a run for it but my legs were in no fit state to try to outrun a Winchester. Sam gently lifted the phone from air and ended the call. I folded my arms and moved away from him. I wasn't planning on handing myself in, more like tell the Sheriff where we were so that we stab the Shapeshifter on arrival. There were major flaws to the plan; hopefully they wouldn't be much of a problem.

I was starting to think that I could live with being wanted if it meant finally being rid of this damn Shapeshifter. Sam and Dean had managed to avoid the police all this time so it couldn't be that hard now could it? Maybe I could cross the boarder and start a new life in Mexico or Canada, I just had to decide whether I like hot or cold weather more. Canada is a big place, I could easily hide away up there and the cold isn't so bad. It would be beyond inconvenient though.

After taking a deep breath to calm my annoyance I explained what I intended to do. In hindsight I should have told them first not mislead them like that but I was tired and fed up of the childish arguments. Sam didn't say anything but Dean more than made up for it, "Not going to happen. What if we get arrested? Its curtains and I don't know about you but I don't fancy eating any jail food."

"Yeah, well, Dean else can we do?" at least Sam was on my side.

"We just have to be ready," I added although that was easier said than done. Sam finally handed me back my phone so that I could call again. I had expected to have second thoughts about making the call but I didn't. I took that as a good sign, a sign that everything would hopefully work out and not fail miserably.

Ready we certainly weren't. It would be a matter of minutes, fifteen at most I'm guessing before the police showed up. I'd told the Sheriff to come alone but knew that he or rather it wouldn't but it was worth a shot. At lightening speeds we packed up everything so that we could make a quick getaway or rather in my rusty red trucks case, a slow getaway.

The hand gun with the silver bullets was loaded and ready to go along with the silver knife I'd been given and another blunt knife that looked to me more like a letter opener but if it got the job done who was I to complain. I'd offered to take the blunter knife of the two but they both insisted I take the sharper one, they obviously had no faith in my ability to stab someone or something. Telling them otherwise had been a pointless task, neither of them believed me so I returned to making sure everything was set to go as the faint sound of sirens could be heard on the empty highway.

It was god knows what time in the morning, I'd done god knows how much running and all I wanted to do was sleep not stand out in the cold night watching flashing lights reflect off the house and illuminate the empty land surrounding us. This was a really stupid mistake. I'd never been one for praying, personally I thought it was nonsense, god wasn't going to save us but this time I allowed for an exception if only for peace of mind.

Dean stood slightly ahead of us, almost like he was psyching himself up for finally getting a result. I hung back with Sam where, for the time being, I felt safe. With Dean's attention occupied elsewhere I took hold of Sam's hand trying to find the safety I felt when we were running for our lives earlier. He squeezed my hand which eased the fear a little bit; nevertheless I still had a nervous smile upon my face. As the car got closer and closer the adrenalin kicked in once again and mixed with the fear it turned into excitement. I had no explanation for it but it was certainly better than the fear alone. The only thing I had to keep reminding myself was to have my wits about me.

There was only one police car, I'd expected more. Maybe it was just the first on the scene with others following suit. I let go off Sam's hand and tightened the grip on the knife as determination sunk in. This would be finished by breakfast, wanted or not wanted.

In the dark I could distinguish the dark outline of two people in the cop car. If it was the Sheriff, great, if it wasn't well I'm sure we'd cross that bridge. With the lights still on the two officers hastily existed the car. Oh crap! This was it. I was actually getting sick of saying that to myself, it seems every time I say it we hit a major snag. We must be running out of major snags by now though.

The Sheriff and his deputy stepped out of the car, although it should really read the Shapeshifter and his deputy stepped out of the car. It seemed to be grinning maliciously, convinced that it was going to come out of this on top well, I had news for it. It wasn't. I but lip as anger suddenly coursed through me, I wanted to run up and stab it to wipe the triumphant look off its face.

"There are more officers on the way," the Shapeshifter stated calmly. Sam shifted slightly, I glanced across at him quickly he looked as annoyed as I was.

"We'll be gone before they get here," Dean replied tightening his grip on the gun at his side. The Shapeshifter looked down at the gun and grinned.

"You think so, do you?" the Shapeshifter took a step closer. Dean raised his gun in response, aiming it straight at the Shapeshifter.

"Oh I wouldn't do that if I was you," the Shapeshifter slowly reached for the Sheriff's gun holster, pulling out a handgun. I expected it to aim the gun straight at Dean, hell I wouldn't put it passed him to pop a cap in any one of our asses right there and then but there again I had a feeling that this was all a game to it. Killing us quickly wouldn't be the result it was after.

Mustering up all the courage I had, knowing that it could quite easily shoot me, I challenged it, "why shouldn't we?" I tightened my already tight grip on the knife, not that it would do any good against a gun. I didn't really stand a chance.

"The little girl has guts, shall I show you?" the Shapeshifter replied before unexpectedly grabbing the Deputy and pressing his gun to her head. We watched the fear flood her eyes across the short distance. I was scared for her. Dean wasn't going to waste any time and lunged for the Shapeshifter, "ah ah ah, I wouldn't be doing that if I were you." Sam grabbed a hold of Dean, stopping him from doing anything drastic. As if to emphasise the point the Shapeshifter pressed the gun harder to the Deputies head, poor lady I bet she has a family. "Or better yet, I could shoot you," it shifted the gun to point at me whilst still keeping his grip on the Deputy who was squirming around trying to get free from its grip.

I couldn't help but stare at the gun aimed at me from a few meters away, there's was a slim chance it would miss but I wasn't thinking about that. I was really going to have to bite the bullet this time. Sam and Dean shifted so they were stood in front of me, Dean not moving the gun from the Shapeshifter. I wasn't paying attention, that gun had completely removed any form of resistance I'd had. Instead I was left nothing but a trembling bag of nerves and was only slightly aware of the Shapeshifter talking, "it seems we are at a stand off."

Sam looked back at me, worried. I tired to show him I had a stiff upper lip and pretended that everything was hunky dory; I doubt he bought it though. As time passed, the sirens grew louder once again, announcing the arrival of more police. We really needed to put our best foot forward and get out of there. I was now having second thoughts about waiting before putting an end to the Shapeshifter so that another officer could see events unfold and brush our being wanted under the carpet. We had that in the form of the Deputy; she just had a gun to her head.

"Fred, what's gotten into you, let me go and we can work it out," the Deputy pleaded. She didn't have a clue what was going on. I watched the Deputy try to pull herself from the Shapeshifter causing it to laugh. If she didn't stop she was going to get herself killed.

"Sammy, why don't explain for the Deputies sake what's going on," Dean asked without turning his attention from the Shapeshifter. I knew what was going on, Dean was buying for time. We needed to do something but we couldn't, we were in full sight of the Shapeshifter. It would see us coming. Of course Dean could just shoot it right now but that was too higher of a risk for the Deputy, there would easily be enough time for it to pull the trigger before it went down.

"That isn't your Sheriff," Sam explained, "It's a Shapeshifter. It's been killing of all those people and taking their places. It's had every single one of you fooled."

"Oh bravo! Yes, I guess the game is up. Oh but what fun it was to watch all those suffering faces right before I snuffed out their lives," the Shapeshifter confessed with a vile grin upon the Sheriff's face.

"You sick bastard!" Dean retorted.

"No more so than you who hunt living beings like me as if it was a sport," it was as if the Shapeshifter was trying to take the moral high ground. I felt outraged, I wasn't doing this for sport and neither were Sam or Dean. We were doing this to stop evil things from causing pain and suffering to others. There was no enjoyment in it for me.

"You think we do this for fun!" I was beyond outraged and managed to open my big mouth once again.

"Yes just like I become other people, the strip club owners are the best, so many beautiful women," the Shapeshifter had clearly been doing this for some time. "I must congratulate you. This is the first time I have ever come close to being caught but then again this is the first time I've ever stayed in one place for more than a few deaths. Once I realised you were hunting me I stayed on, for the challenge. It does become boring after a while."

By now the Deputy had stopped struggling and was horrified, we all were. "What are you going to do about the other officers when they arrive?" I asked as the sound of sirens became louder still from the highway.

"Oh I won't be around, I'll kill my friend here and maybe one of you. I just have to choose which one. The little girl who needs to put her money where her mouth is, Mr Take-no-prisoners with the gun or the tall one? Decisions, decisions. Or better yet, I could become the Deputy, I've only ever been a women once before. It wasn't a pleasant experience."

I moved forward to stand next to Dean ready to destroy the Shapeshifter at the first chance I got; I'd show it putting my money where my mouth is. By now no proof was needed to show that this Shapeshifter was as mad as a hatter. If the Deputy could just get away from the Shapeshifter we'd stand a better chance. Three against one, easy. We had to keep the Shapeshifter talking. "Only once before? Is there something wrong with us females?" I asked, challenging it to argue.

"No you are stunning creatures you just bitch and moan constantly," that smart ass.

I had to have nerves of steel to continue, "So you'd rather be some balding middle aged man, of all the possibilities." That hit a nerve; the smile disappeared from its face. It was only words but I felt it was a small triumph. Now would be the ideal time for the Deputy to make a run for it, whilst a majority of its attention was on me. 'Run Deputy Run!' If only she could read minds. I had to hope that either Sam or Dean had cottoned onto what I was thinking and made some gesture for the Deputy to run whilst the Shapeshifter wasn't paying too much attention.

"A man with experience, I like to be someone with some standing, some power something the likes of you wouldn't understand. It needs to be someone with experience," it replied with hints of defensiveness.

I raised an eyebrow. The nerves had been flattened for the time being allowing this new over-confident version of me to surface. Up until now I never knew this side of me existed. I can't say I was mad keen on it but it seemed to be working. The problem was keeping it up.

I had to keep covertly glancing to the side to get one of the Winchesters' to follow. There was only so long I could keep it talking for before it got to angry and blew the Deputies head off right there and then.

Thankfully Sam caught on to what I was trying to achieve and gestured with his hand slightly. The Deputy made no inclination that she was going to make a break for it. She probably didn't trust us, I don't blame her she more than likely thought we were crazy. First her Sheriff goes crazy and tries to kill and here we are telling her the Sheriff is actually a Shapeshifter. The gun and two knives probably weren't promoting our case either. At least she had a better chance of living if she trusted us. Sam repeated the gesture with his hand at his side. I gazed beyond the Shapeshifter at the four or maybe five cars speeding up to the house, I looked back at the Shapeshifter, square in the eyes we really were running out of time, "Is that what you're calling it. Personally and I'm sure these two will agree with me, I think you're a coward. A coward who's too afraid to make a life for himself so you resort to stealing other people's lives." It was fair to say the Shapeshifter was now officially pissed; thankfully it gave the Deputy chance to make a run for it, towards us. The major problem had seen coming was the gun now aimed at me with psychotic Shapeshifter wielding it.


	14. Chapter 14

**Hey, so i thought that this would be the last chapter, apparantly I have one more up my sleeve after this. I just have to write it. Sorry if there are any mistakes, I'm tired but I wanted to get this up before I move out tomorrow. Anyways, hope you enjoy it =]**

**Chapter 14**

I looked to Sam and Dean for help. For the briefest moment I contemplated throwing the knife but I wouldn't be able to throw it hard enough for it to even break skin. That only left running but I'd be dead as soon as I take one step. In my state of pure fear I could see no other way out of it.

"Dean!" Sam called out startling me, Dean was already ahead of Sam he had the gun poised and aimed at the Shapeshifter and squeezed the trigger. The noise of the gun was suffocated by the wailing sirens, it was utter chaos. I closed my eyes not wanting to witness it, no matter how many times I'd seen death of someone or something it never got easier.

"Son of a bitch!" Dean shouted. I snapped open my eyes, the Shapeshifter hadn't gone down as expected. It had managed to anticipate the bullet and tried to side step it. I say tried for there was a huge gaping wound on its left arm. It was sort of satisfying to see that between us we'd managed to bring it closer to its downfall after all the trouble we'd had.

The Shapeshifter stared venomously at Dean, "That hurt."

"Good," Dean replied.

We weren't out of the woods yet but it was enough to take out its gun, now we stood a much better chance. With our attention claimed by the Shapeshifter we hadn't realised how rapidly the other officers had reached the house. "Put your weapons down and arms where we can see them!" one of the officers shouted. We'd been surrounded.

"What are you waiting for, get them already!" the Shapeshifter hollered hysterically. The phrase shit creek without a paddle springs to mind. I could go to jail or worse die. Our only hope lay with the Deputy who probably thought we were stark raving mad. At least if she did we might not go to jail, we'd just get committed and locked up for eternity. Jail was fast becoming our best bet. Instinctively I edged closer to Sam and Dean as I set down the knife. Once again it was either fight or flight. I favoured flight but we had no place to run, the Winchester's on the other hand looked like they favoured fight. Of course they bloody well would.

"Wait!" I cried desperately with my new found confidence. My new found confidence that was fading fast as every pair of eyes turned on me, "J-j-just listen to us."

"Like we haven't heard that before," one of the officers to my left commented.

I knew it was hopeless trying but I needed them to see the truth, we all did. "Listen buddy," Dean cut in, "That isn't your Sheriff."

"Nice try but I wasn't born yesterday. If I'm honest that was probably the worst attempt I've ever heard for trying to escape arrest," the same officer replied. The Sheriff or rather Shapeshifter smirked at us. Where the hell was the Deputy? She had to believe us by now, after hearing the horrific reasoning behind its actions.

"We're not trying to escape," Sam tried to reason. Dean and I both turned to look at him, was he being serious? I thought the whole point was to try and find a way out of this where we weren't arrested.

"Owen, listen to them," the Deputy barked from a few meters behind us and about time too, "that isn't the Sheriff, the Sheriff is dead."

Who in their right mind was going to believe? If I was in their shoes I sure as hell wouldn't but we needed to them to trust that the three strangers they had surrounded were right. We were getting desperate but with the Deputy now at least willing to accept our explanation things were certainly looking up.

"Don't listen to her, she's been working with these monsters all along," the Shapeshifter was also getting desperate. I highly doubted that he would be able to keep up his persona for long. Eventually he would slip up or we would get lucky. The wound on its arm had made an impact, a satisfying one at that.

The Deputy stepped towards the Shapeshifter, stopping just short of it. The officers were beyond baffled. Something they were unable to keep hidden from their faces. Now was the time for us to claim an advantage. I was thinking of something along the lines of another distraction but I was fresh out of ideas, I was too occupied with the various weapons aimed in our general direction.

"Arrest them, the Deputy to, she's been feeding them information the entire time," the Shapeshifter claimed. It seemed that was all the officers needed. In their eyes the Sheriff was to be believed over the Deputy and who could blame them. The way the situation looked upon their arrival was the only real piece of information they had to go on.

I longingly eyed the knife I'd had to kick a short distance away with. If I could pick it up quick enough and stab the Shapeshifter it might allow Sam and Dean to get away. The moment I did that though I'd be welcoming their gunfire with open arms. It didn't matter; we didn't have the time to do anything. The Shapeshifter had won. One of the officers speedily withdrew his handcuffs and snapped them on my risk. I didn't struggle, what good would it do? I was only slightly aware that certainly Dean and possibly Sam were trying to resist. I may as well have just saved myself the hassle and waltzed into the police station and handed myself in from the start either way I'd have cold metal digging into my wrists.

Acceptance of my fate seemed the only way forward. Acceptance that I'd wasted over a year doing what with my life? Chasing ghosts like a character from a film. No jury would believe me; I'd be locked up immediately in a loony bin. I would never Sam again; I don't think I'd be able to cope with being alone after discovering I didn't need to shut everyone out. It was all this damn Shapeshifter's fault. The only hope I was left with was that someday some other hunter would annihilate the Shapeshifter and achieve what we had failed so miserably at.

Locked into my own downwards spiral of regret and despair that I was trying to pass off as acceptance, I'd once again managed to block out everything else around me. "Alice!" Sam called but I didn't acknowledge him or the movement around me. I was just rooted to the spot until forced to do otherwise. "Alice, snap out of it!" that was Sam's voice again. I looked over to Sam but he wasn't their, the only person there was an officer lying unconscious. I slowly snapped, as Sam had put it, out of my lifeless trance. If Sam wasn't there where was he.

"Sam?" I called quietly not sure whether or not I was imagining that events had taken a turn for the better. I couldn't be. Sam was trying to fight off another officer who had tried to do what the unconscious officer had tried but again to no avail. Sam had managed to break away from the officer that had held him so it was highly probable that Dean had achieved the same. Sure enough he had, smart move unlike what I'd done. I was helpless to do anything; with my arms held behind my back my movement was restricted. I tried as hard as I could to shrug off the officer and at the very least get away from him. It was hopeless though, the officer had a tight grip on my arm to the point that it made me wince. Right then and there I hated being a girl, I just didn't have the strength despite the job I'd been doing for the past year.

Unable to fight against the officer holding me, who I was starting to think was like the Incredible Hulk, I resorted to words, "will you let go off me. We're telling the truth, touch its skin, it sheds it. You're making a mistake," the officer tightened his grip on my arm. I would certainly have a bruise in the morning, if there ever was a morning.

The yard in front of the dilapidated house was now in a state of confusion. No one knew what to believe apart from the three of us who were desperately trying to evade arrest. The only way I was going to get out of this was for a Winchester to save me. My pride wouldn't allow that, no matter how much I'd changed due to this case. At the end of the day I would nine times out ten refuse their help unless I was really stuck and it had to be really stuck. Right now I needed to be resourceful, I ad my arms, legs and the knife. The knife and arms were out of the question which left me with the legs. With nothing to loose and my freedom to gain I stamped as hard as I could on the officer's foot, trying to get his grip to loosen but it didn't work. I swear he must be made of steel. Not wasting any time after my failed attempt I lifted my knee and forcibly kneed him in the stomach. Knocking the wind out of him. If he wasn't trying to arrest me for something I hadn't done I might have felt sorry for him.

I wasn't about to dwell on it though, I'd managed to achieve freedom and I wasn't going to waste it. The only obstacle in my way was the handcuffs I so desperately needed to get rid of. Sam was too far away and too busy resisting another officer. Dean on the other hand was frantically looking for his gun, I couldn't see it from where I was but I didn't exactly have the time to look closely. The knife that was a short distance away from me but the officer that had been holding me was beginning to recover slightly; there was no time to grab it. "Dean!" I called, I'd already assessed that Sam couldn't help me. I ducked as the officer swung for me and let Dean come to the rescue. In a matter of seconds the Incredible Hulk was out cold and Dean had his keys.

"Thanks," I said to Dean as I rubbed my wrists. However, there was no time to rest. I couldn't wait for this evening to be over and the three of us to come out alive. For now though, I just had to take a concrete pill and get on with it, despite my constantly fluctuating fear and confidence. Something I was starting to enjoy.

Dean dashed back into the fray; I made a mad dash for the knife lying a short distance away. Ready to reach down and pick up the knife, I realised that I could put an end to this if I just raced at the Shapeshifter through the fray but that wasn't to me. With lightening speeds my feet were pulled from underneath me, slamming me face first into the dirt jarring my left wrist. It hurt, I won't lie to you. Actually scrap that hurt was an understatement. My wrists had taken most of the fall but I'd still banged my head on the floor, already I could feel a lump the size of an egg forming whether I'd drawn blood was for the time being unknown. Whoever had grabbed my leg was still clinging on, with slightly blurred vision I desperately tried to shake the hand off. My instincts were telling me that it was the officer who I'd kneed in the stomach. I kicked my free leg until it made contact with a solid object; I was praying that it was the man's head. Not that I wanted to see him hurt, I just had other priorities so to speak.

Not wanting to waste my time I sprung to my feet, by now my sight had cleared again, my knife once again held firmly in my uninjured wrist. I locked my eyes onto the Shapeshifter and rushed towards it. I could do this, I could end it all. I glanced around checking once more as I ran to check that the coast was clear and I wasn't about to get tackled to ground again. Dean was assisting the Sheriff, and Sam had managed to shake off the officers or at least as far as I could see and likewise had his sights set on the Shapeshifter.

The Shapeshifter himself was looking directly at me, so the element of surprise wasn't to be my friend. I could just charge straight at it and launch the knife at it but that had a very low success rate. I was more likely to get over powered by it. Whilst I was thinking a plan of action through, Sam, instead of action had seized his opportunity and tackled the Shapeshifter to the ground, I'd barely had to chance to blink as it happened. Knowing that Sam was weaponless I raced to help. "Sam! Hold it still," that turned out to be easier said than done all I wanted to do was stab it. The Shapeshifter's good arm was free and it had punched Sam in the face. Sam struggled to keep the Shapeshifter pinned to the dusty ground, collapsing onto my knees I scrambled to grab hold of the Shapeshifter as well but only grabbed a handful of its shirt which slipped through my fingers as it pushed Sam off and scurried away.

I didn't waste any time and tore off after it, Sam now covered in dirt pulled himself to his feet and followed, "Alice, don't loose it. If it escapes we'll never catch it again," I already knew that, nevertheless I let it spur me on and felt the now all too familiar burn in my lungs from running.

My eyes widened as I saw the Shapeshifter get into a police car and hastily turn the ignition. Now we were royally screwed so to speak. I couldn't get into the car; there wasn't enough time I was too far away. Instead I turned on my heel, heading for my truck. I crashed into Sam in my hurry. "Oof," it knocked the air out of me; Sam's hands on my shoulders steadied me.

"You okay?" he asked, gazing at me with concern.

"Yeah," I replied breathlessly, "my truck," I didn't have time to voice any more." We could have used their car which was quicker but we didn't have any keys. As we dashed towards my truck one of the few remaining officers stepped into our path, stopping us suddenly.

"Alice, you go, we'll catch up," Sam said. I didn't need to be told twice, I knew what was at stake.

"Right," I answered, already seeing the dust blown from the dirt road by the police car in the dark.

With one last look at Sam I rand for my truck, pulling my keys from my pocket in the process. "Be careful!" Sam called.

Slamming the door I launched the truck into life and hit the gas. In all honestly I hadn't anticipated a car chase that seemed too much like something out of a movie to me. The police car wasn't too far ahead; if I could get in front of it I could veer round and instantly put a stop to it. My truck would be ruined in the protest; I had no way of predicting how much. I just had to pray that it wasn't enough to cause me any pain or even worse, kill me.

I felt my truck's bumper clip that of the police cars and I had to fight to keep the wheel straight. This was it now or never. We hadn't yet reached the end of the long drive way so I still had time. I desperately wanted to close my eyes and then open them when everything was all fine and dandy once again but I couldn't I needed them to see my plan through. The speed I was forcing on my truck was causing it to rattle and protest but I had to get in front of the police car.

My truck crept up on the police car; I floored the acceleration and drew neck and neck with the truck. It was now or never, I swung my truck wound colliding with a smash into the front of the police car. I prayed with all I had that I was going to come out of it alive. The force of it was a surprise; I hadn't expected to feel the force of it as much as I did. It hurt, adding to my pounding head and throbbing wrist but I was mostly unscathed. I had been more than lucky but that didn't stop my legs from shaking as I wobbled from my truck slightly dazed with disbelief over what I'd just done.

"Alice!" it was Sam with Dean following behind, "what happened?"

I couldn't coordinate an answer quick enough, the crash having more of an impact than I though, all I could think of was the Shapeshifter. "You did that deliberately," Dean accused, I couldn't argue, I had.

"So what if I did?" I replied, not having the patience, "I had to stop it." On the subject of the Shapeshifter, I wobbled my towards the police car, where the Shapeshifter had thrown the drivers door open and was pulling itself out, no doubt intending on making a break for it again but we were too quick for it. Or rather Sam and Dean were too quick for it. I on the other hand, had to return to my truck for the knife using my last bit of energy. The knife was still lying on the passenger seat where I'd discarded it upon initially entering my now battered truck.

Sam and Dean had the Shapeshifter pinned against the undamaged side of the police car. I stood in front of it, knife raised, "it's over laser eyes," Dean said, tightening his grip on the Shapeshifter.

I looked to Sam for confirmation who nodded from opposite Dean, equally tightening his grip to hold back the struggling Shapeshifter. With my uninjured right hand I impaled the knife into the Shapeshifter's chest, piercing its heart. It let out a horrific scream. Instantly I backed away, I'd just ended a living creature's life without any second thought. I knew it had to be done and I would do it again if it meant saving someone's life despite this it doesn't mean that I have to like it.

The Winchesters' loosened their grip on the Shapeshifter, allowing it to slump against the side of the car and onto the floor. I dropped the knife to the floor with a clang and felt my own legs give way underneath me, Sam's arm's instantly tried to catch me but instead I dragged him down with me. With the realisation that the case had come to an end, my arrived my adrenalin finally gave away to the exhaustion. Crashing my truck had been the tipping point.

At least now, slouched against Sam, I felt that everything was okay.


	15. Chapter 15

**Hey, right well I certainly didn't expect to have my internet up and running so soon, brilliant. This is the last chapter, at least for now anyways. I've kind of left it so that I can continue with a sequal, it just depends how busy I am at uni, although I already have a few ideas running through my head. Thank you everyone for the reviews and for reading this, hopefully you didn't think it was too awful.**

**One final time and because I nearly always forgot to add a disclaimer- I don't own supernatural.**

**Chapter 15**

Sat on the steps to the house, my head in my hands I had time to reflect. After collapsing the floor, everything had been one huge blur to me. Sam and Dean took charge of everything, with the help of the Sheriff. The few officers that were unconscious needed some explaining. As did the Deputy dropping all charges against us, allowing us to walk free. I didn't have the energy to be happy about that, just relieved; I had other things on my mind like the pain in my wrist, the dull ache in my head and the heap of junk that was my truck which was blocking the road.

Sam smiled at me from across the yard as they talked to the Sheriff. Dean was leaning casually against his car as he explained something to the Deputy or rather the new Sheriff. I didn't have the brain power to join in instead I smiled back, trying to put on a brave face. One thing was for sure, this was by far the worst state I'd ever been in after a hunt. The odd bruise or the odd sprain sure but never this much pain, granted I'd never deliberately crashed my truck before.

I couldn't sit moping forever, reluctantly, with my entire body protesting I forced myself to my feet and went to investigate my truck. The truck and I had become good friends, yeah it was a useless pile of crap but it was my useless pile of crap. It was a sorry site with a door barely hanging on by its hinges and a smashed in front. I had no idea if it was worth fixing, it might be cheaper to buy a new car, one with a working radio maybe something faster and cooler. But I could think about that later, for now I needed to get it moved, fingers crossed it'll start.

It didn't and I didn't have the patience to think of another way to get it moved so I kicked it. Well I kicked the tyre, which in hindsight wasn't a sharp thing to do. The converse on my feet did nothing to soften the blow; they just assisted the tyre in making my toes hurt. It felt like the world was out to get me, god awful thing that it is. Cursing the truck to hell and deciding on the spot that I no longer minded a new car, I slammed the door shut and leant against it folding my arms. Who knew I was capable off such an overdramatic tantrum. At least the Winchester's were too busy to see. Still silently fuming at myself more than anything I waited for them to finish so they could help me push the mass of rusted metal to the side and let me hitch a ride. Staying in this town wasn't an option.

Aside from the looks we kept exchanging Sam and I hadn't spoken about what happened earlier. I wanted to though, which surprised me more than anything else, I guess I'd have to tackle that later. "Smile a little we just iced the Shapeshifter," Dean grinned as he and his brother left the new Sheriff with her officers.

"What is there to smile about?" I shot back.

"Come on we're alive and no more wanted than usual," I couldn't help but laugh, he was right, "and I don't know about you two but I could certainly use a beer."

"Dean, you could always use a beer," Sam sighed.

"That's all very well," I stood up straight and stepped away from my dead truck, "but before that I've got a problem." I tapped my foot, rather than the forceful kick earlier, against my truck.

"What's that?" Sam asked.

"This crappy rust bucket won't start, until we move that were stuck here," I replied. We had very little time left to move it, before long the officers, one of which had already stirred, would be looking for an explanation and neither of us wanted to give it.

"Rust bucket? Isn't that being a bit polite?" Dean teased. If I thought it would help I'd have kicked him too whilst I was at it in defence of my truck, despite how right he was.

The only way to move it was to push it out of the way with the handbrake off, a smug smile crept onto my face, "for that, you can do the pushing." Dean raised his eyebrows at my threat and looked to Sam for help. Sam shrugged and by the looks of things was trying to hide a smile, turned my smile to him, "don't think you're getting off scot free, you can help him." Both brothers were speechless, something I felt was more of an achievement than finally introducing the Shapeshifter to a little someone called death.

I opened the drivers' side door and let go off the handbrake so the truck would hopefully just push out of the way, I contemplated sitting inside to steer but that would create more work for the Winchesters' so I opted for leaning awkwardly over the wheel whilst trying to push it as well. My poor red truck was a sorry mess and it was my fault.

A few minutes later and the truck had been pushed to the side of the dirt track, "what are you going to do with it?" Sam said as he wiped the dust from my truck onto his jeans. Dean wiped his hands, the exact same way as Sam. They were definitely brothers.

I swept my hair back up into a messy ponytail, the breeze had been blowing it about all over the shop and I was beginning to get on my nerves. That and I didn't want to brush out the birds' nest of knots. I was trying to think of answer to Sam's question. The only option I could think of was to sell it for scraps and buy another rusted hunk of metal on four wheels. So long as it started and had some form of radio I could hook my iPod up to I wasn't going to complain. "Leave it to rot in some junk yard, that thing isn't worthy of anything," Dean answered Sam who rolled his eyes at his brother.

"Oi! That's my truck, you might not like it but I" I paused trying to find a way to describe it. Cheap, convenient, sturdy? But I failed, "actually no I hated it," Dean was right, "I'll just buy a new one after selling this for scrap and parts."

"Nothing on that truck would be useful for parts," honestly, didn't Dean know when to shut his mouth. To make a point I punched him none to lightly in the arm. Apparently, I was capable of plenty of violence, I blame the Winchesters' or rather one in particular and I'm sure you can guess who.

Dean walked back to their car mumbling to himself, "So," Sam began, "what are you going to do now." I truthfully had no idea.

"Looks like I'm sticking around town for a while until I get something sorted," it seemed both of us were skirting around what really needed to be said. I was too independent and stubborn to ask for help, after all it was my problem to fix but looking past Sam to the gathering of officer I was starting the think that wasn't a good idea but then again, how long would it take for me to get back on my feet so to speak.

"You don't have to, we've got a friend who can sort you out with a car and until then you can hitch a ride with us," Sam suggested with a hint of hope. I could hardly say no, what other option was I left with and it would give me a chance to spend more time with Sam despite the niggling feeling that I was being a burden.

"Thanks," I smiled and hugged Sam, "and Dean?"

"Will cope," he replied. Sam helped me carry my very few bags to the back of their car.

Dean looked up at the sound of by bags thudding to the floor, "what's going on?" he asked as he eyed my bags sceptically. Leaving Sam to answer to his brothers' protests I made an excuse to go and get the rest of my stuff. All that was left was my laptop and a battered photo album that I kept under the passenger seat.

When I returned the Winchesters' had already loaded my bags into their car and I could hear them bickering from a few meters away, "she needs to know," I heard Dean say.

"Needs to know what?" I said as I crossed the last few steps, my curiosity piqued.

Both Winchesters' exchanged a look and kept silent, each hoping the other would say something, "there are certain rules if you're joining us on the road," Dean finally told all. However, I had a feeling that what Dean was saying was just an excuse, whatever, if they didn't want to tell me then fine but looking at Sam the expression on his face seemed to say otherwise. What on earth was going on?

"Okay then, lets hear them," I replied. I could hardly complain they were kind enough to let me tag along for a while.

"Drivers choice of music the rest of you shut your cake hole and none of this touchy feely emotional crap," Dean reeled off a few more rules and I listened whilst trying hard not to laugh, he seriously loved his car or rather the Impala as I should be referring to it as. Sam gave me an apologetic look behind Dean's back, one thing was for sure, travelling with the Winchesters' wasn't going to be dull.

The plan we had was to head towards someone called Bobby, the Winchesters' knew him quite well by the sounds of things. It wasn't going to be a direct route though, depending on what hunts turned up. So for the next few weeks I would no longer be working alone, I'd give it a few days before they wanted to kill me. What can I say, I'm stubborn.

Dean went round to the drivers' side and Sam and I both looked at each other and the door handle to the back seat. "Don't even think about it Sam, you guys carry on as normal. I don't want to be a burden."

Sam's face softened, he swept some hair that had fallen from my messy pony tail behind my ear, "You're not."

"Oi! Will you two hurry up, Sam front seat, Alice stop being stubborn," Dean shouted through the open window.

I opened the car door and climbed into the back shoving my laptop and album onto the back seat. With dawn just beginning to show itself over the horizon we left Manchester behind and headed west, music blaring away loudly through Dean's open window. I rested my head on the cold window and closed my eyes, finally able to rest my tired achy body or at least I tried. The loud music and breeze from the window proving to be quite the challenge, hopefully with time I'd get used to it.

Two hours later my stomach grumbled, reminding me that I'd barely eaten. I'd long since given up on sleep and had been watching the countryside and towns fly past the window. Sam was slouched against the side of the car; apparently he didn't have a problem with sleeping through the racket that Dean called music.

"Hey Dean?" I called loudly. He turned the music down, letting me speak at a normal volume, "can we stop for something to eat soon?"

"Sure," he replied. Excellent, even if it was diner food. Dean turned the music back up, louder than before cruelly stirring Sam from his sleep. "Hey sleepy head, you hungry?" Dean shouted over the music, as if Sam had woken himself up.

Once again, watching the two of them, I was reminded of my own brother. I sighed and looked at my album, I wanted to flick through it and look for hours on end at my family pictures but that wouldn't help. Instead I picked up my book and listened to the boys, "You knew I was asleep!" Sam protested.

Dean slowed down as a gas station appeared further down the road, he pulled in and we grabbed a quick bite to eat and take out coffee before continuing on the road. The three of us and the Impala were refuelled. Sam took over the driving, after words from Dean to drive carefully which I felt was a bit reach coming from Dean who had completely ignored every speed limit since Manchester. The loud music disappeared and was replaced by the local radio playing quietly. More than grateful for Dean's rule I immediately closed my eyes and went to sleep.

Late afternoon early evening sort of time we arrived in Hartford, Vermont where we were to spend the night. At least the Winchesters' had the same taste in dingy motel as I had, although I think that was more or less due to lack of money. It was cheap and cheerful.

Desperate to crash out for the night I hastily grabbed my bags and went to my room, next door to the Winchesters'. After a once again much needed shower, I munched on a chocolate bar and climbed into bed. I tossed and turned for what felt like hours but following a glance at my watch I discovered it had only been half an hour if that. Frustrated, I flicked on the TV and channel skipped hoping to be bored to sleep by some mind numbing sitcom.

A knock on my door was a very much welcomed sound after over an hour of staring at the telly. If you were to ask me what I was watching, I couldn't answer you. Without realising I was dressed in pyjamas I answered the door to find Sam. His eyes immediately travelled to my froggy pyjamas bottoms; I blushed kicking myself for not thinking to pull on some jeans. "Sorry, did I wake you?" he asked. I shook my head and stepped aside.

"I couldn't sleep," I answered politely. I was alone with Sam for the first time since Manchester and didn't know what to say, "I tried though," I said trying to sound positive.

"Wish I could say the same about Dean, he's snoring like a pig," he complained, I laughed and wasn't surprised at what he'd said. "Look Alice there's something you need to know," Sam said, changing the mood from being light-hearted to serious. This had to be about earlier, before we left. I was right Dean hadn't told me what they were discussing.

I sat down on the edge of the bed and patted it, "I thought so, now sit."

He ran a hand through his hair and sighed, whatever he was about to tell me must be difficult, "do you remember what I told you about my family?"

"Yeah," I replied, wondering where this was going.

"Well, shortly before we stopped the yellow-eyed demon I died," my eyes widened in shock. Was he talking figuratively or literally? How can someone die but be sat right next to me? Actually that's a stupid question for me to ask myself, I'm sure it's quite possible. "But Dean, he," Sam paused, I could see how difficult it was for him to talk about it, "he made a deal with a cross roads demon, his life for mine. He's got seven months left to live."

"Oh Sam," I wrapped my arms around him and felt him do the same.

"A demon named Lillith hold his contract and we're trying to stop her but time is passing," this was awful, if I'd have known I wouldn't have called them about the Shapeshifter.

"I want to help," I stated with determination.

Sam hesitated, "I wouldn't want for you to get hurt."

"Well that's just tough because I'm helping," I pulled away and folded my arms, as if to prove a point. This was yet another argument my stubbornness wouldn't allow me to back down from.

"Alice," I placed my hand on his lips, silencing him.

"Save it, I've made my mind up. It's the least I can do after you two have gone out of your way to help me."

"I would help you any day of the week," Sam confessed and laced his fingers with mine.

"This is what you wanted to tell me earlier. Am I right in guessing that Dean doesn't want me to know?" I asked.

"Yeah, he doesn't think you'll be with us for very long but well, it would be nice if you were," it was at that very moment that I realised that Sam needed me as much as I'd found I needed him.


End file.
